


Identity

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Come With Me [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complete, Episode: s03e24 Turnabout Intruder, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 17:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: After falling into a trap set by Doctor Janice Lester, the crew has to deal with a shake-up. McCoy and Kirk have to deal with more than that.





	Identity

 Identity

 Sarah Problem

 

 

 

 

 

Admiral Robert Bellamy strode tiredly through the halls of Starfleet Medical, trying very hard not to spill his coffee. He had a machine in his office that could make great coffee. His aide, Thomas, knew how to use it. Bellamy had no problems with that. But it just seemed like the coffee down the hall and in the common area tasted better. Maybe it was because he could look out over the San Francisco Bay from the large window and know that it wasn't a viewscreen. The view was fantastic, and after all his years in offices, it was the green and blue that always drew his eye.

He was beginning to suspect that if he didn't make that trip down to the common room a couple of times a day, to see the people he was fighting for, he'd become too overwhelmed to function.

_Maybe I'm getting too old for this. I've seen too much. All the maps, spreadsheets, and reports haunt me. How pleasantly simple it must have been when it was only humans and plagues._

He nodded at Thomas, who was at his desk in the front office, busy at his job of distilling down information into bite-sized nuggets. His own office contained only stark, white walls and a clean desk with only a few extra-secure PADDS on it. At least, a visitor would think it sterile. But he knew it wasn't. Not literally, because in his youth he'd never been one of those people to have every surface constantly wiped down in his own office. He wasn't that much of a germaphobe. And not even by design. All the walls around him lacked art or decorations because they were all screens, ready to appear on demand. He could be surrounded by data, all the time. It was why he needed to escape every so often.

The data showed him not only the truth, but a peek into a very scary future. One where it would take only one virus to mutate from one species to another, to morph into something semi-intelligent enough to respond to and defeat all attempts to attack it. To have a new form of intelligent viral life wipe out the old. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. And maybe not even by evolution. It was well known the Romulans and the Klingons were not above germ or DNA warfare. It was coming. Someday.

_It's the little things in life that can make or break us. Disease included._

He sat at his desk and pulled one of the secure PADDS to him, hoping that whatever problem he found described could be managed easily. He was into several pages of the report when Thomas came in.

"Sir? We have a yellow-flag."

"Oh?" Bellamy said, putting down the PADD. A yellow-flagged item was actually a person on his 'Special' list. Someone he was watching, and looking out for. Someone he wanted on one of his various research teams, but who, as of yet, wasn't. When something interesting, important or new happened to them, or they did something extraordinary, the computer would yellow-flag it for his attention. He held out his hand for the PADD Thomas carried. When he saw who it was about, he waved Thomas over to a chair to wait on a response.

The name of Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy did not come as a shock to him. The man had more yellow-flags in Bellamy's system than anyone else.

_Engaged, is he? Well, that makes it more complicated. If it'd been anyone but the Captain, I could have arranged for McCoy and his fiancé to transfer together. But after he's shot down all the offers, hints, and little pushes I've given him to join my teams, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I was too slow. I should have pushed harder when he was at the Academy. I should have dug deeper._

Doctor McCoy was just one of hundreds of candidates Bellamy kept an eye on. McCoy had been at the top of his class in Med School. Was quick thinking, ferociously aggressive in treating his patients, and had an inborn talent for the medical field. The only child of two doctors, he'd practically grown up in his mother's and father's practices. He'd developed a sarcastic style of coping that allowed him to vent to the outside world rather than let the horrors of the job overwhelm him. An outstanding resident, although with hits on 'bedside manner' here and there, he'd shown extreme talent in the Triage and Emergency areas. He didn't waste time second-guessing his instincts, but followed them. When seconds counted, he used every one of them to his advantage. He did not suffer fools gladly, and once he took a patient under his care, was fiercely protective.

_He reacts to medical situations without thinking about, or concern for, himself. He'd be perfect for that team I've got working on Olduvai. Whatever he'd take on, he'd wrestle with it until he solved it. I knew that when I sent that Starfleet Recruiter to him during his divorce. It was an off chance he'd have considered Starfleet. Especially with his aerophobia. I should have kept more in touch with him after he entered. But I_ **never** _thought he'd be interested in deep space._

There were few Doctors interested in joining the service. It would always be a struggle to recruit them. And of those already in Starfleet, most were more interested in the science aspect of their careers rather than a straight medical practice. Most Doctors only worked on ships as a way to earn a research position. But not McCoy. Which had surprised Bellamy no end. McCoy had had his choice, on graduation, of any planet, starbase or research team with an opening. He'd earned the prime postings.

Even though Bellamy's reports had shown McCoy as being 'joined at the hip' with the young Kirk, Bellamy had just seen it as a phase. The young Kirk's father was famous, after all. The 'Kelvin Baby' would be expected to have his share of hangers-on, just on name recognition alone. Bellamy had expected the friendship to burn itself out before graduation, when McCoy would balk at a spaceship posting.

_How wrong I was. Who knew that young Kirk would end up saving Earth? Becoming the Captain of Starfleet's Flagship?_

And as wrong as he had been about that, he was still not willing to give up on McCoy. There was too much riding on the future to have such a dynamic, intelligent, and resourceful mind be lost to the black. Because the odds of him surviving, especially with such a maverick of a Captain, were poor. Very, very, poor.

_I can't let Starfleet lose him. The future needs him._

He tossed the PADD across the table to Thomas.

"Maybe it's time we did a little more digging on his case. Who do we have out in that area of space qualified to conduct a surprise inspection?"

Thomas went to the wall and called up a screen. He typed up a list of people and locations.

"We have a Commander Hartman in that area, Sir. He has a Doctorate in the studies of Human Psychology and Astopsychosis."

"He's a sleeper, If I remember correctly."

"Yes, Sir. While holding Doctorates, he is neither referred to as 'Doctor', nor has it listed in his public file. His background and rank shows him as being assigned to Medical Security, and usually assigned to personal and medical supply inspections. He can conduct various tests without the subject being aware of the true nature, or purpose, of those tests."

"Then send him out to the Enterprise. They'll be transporting the next round of vaccines in that area, so a security check wouldn't look strange. I want him to not only subject McCoy's department to inspections for physical inventory and clerical irregularities, but his emotional and mental state as well. Nothing too deep or obvious. I just want to see the lay of the land. Starfleet Command must have some concerns in that area, so I want to get a 'heads up' if I can get him out of there without damage to his reputation. A Captain and a CMO will have to knock heads once in a while. If he can't stand up to the Captain in a fight because of their relationship, he's not fit for the CMO's job. If we're going to get him out of there based on conflict or incompetence, it'll have to be before he's married. It'll be too hard to force his hand after that."

"Begging your pardon, Sir?" Thomas asked. "If I may...?"

Bellamy nodded. Thomas had been privy to McCoy's files and yellow-flags for as long as Bellamy had been in this job.

"Sir, are you sure that if he fails the inspection, or psychoanalysis, which could lose him the CMO position, that you would still want him on one of your teams? Such a failing, for whatever reason, is a very large black mark on his record."

"Thomas, at this point I don't care if he has an unhealthy sexual attraction to tribbles, and drinks his weight in Romulan ale every night. We can supply him with plenty of both, under the radar. I don't want to lose that brilliant mind. We don't have so many of them, in any species, that we can afford to waste them to whatever danger is out there."

Thomas listened carefully, his face neutral. "Yes, Sir. It will take several weeks to get Commander Hartman into position."

"Just get him there in enough time to beat McCoy and Kirk to the alter. Then we'll see how it shakes out."

 

***

 

Captain James T. Kirk was hoping for another good morning. A cup of coffee in hand, he made his way through the corridors to his Ready Room to start his next shift. The past few weeks had been pretty calm. Nothing on the ship had broken, no one had gotten sick from anything strange. There had been no attacks or strange occurrences to interrupted their study of the Kazar system, and its sun, nor had anything stopped or harassed them on their mission to bring medical supplies and vaccines to Station Nigala IV. They had all seemed to have had a good Holiday season, and everyone seemed in good spirits. And, on a personal note, Jim and McCoy had had almost six weeks to get used to being engaged. The crew seemed to be taking that in stride, and it was old news now.

_Everything's going well, and things have been calm for several weeks. So, why do I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop? I think Bones' pessimism is rubbing off on me._

McCoy had been a bit down the last week or so. With all the wedding plans they'd been making for Deneva, Bones had pretty much agreed to everything Jim had wanted. Which included a small wedding at Sam and Aurelan's place, with her parents and Peter and the new baby, Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Scotty and Checkov. Winona Kirk, had agreed to come, surprising both Jim and Sam. It wasn't until McCoy told him that his dad, David McCoy, couldn't make it that Jim realized how disappointed McCoy was.

_It's all my family, and a few of the crew. He's only got his Dad. There's no one else back home to even ask. I think he just feels a little left out. There's got to be some way to get David to Deneva. If not, then maybe we can re-do the ceremony the next time we hit Earth. I'll just have to keep working on it._

He also suspected that their being close to the Klingon border was keeping him feeling a little edgy. Jim knew that McCoy, and even Starfleet Medical, was a bit suspicious about the new virus' that had cropped up on the border systems these last few years. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that the Klingon's were trying out various forms of biological warfare on the neighboring systems. The Enterprise was on its way to Starbase 11 to drop off a new round of vaccines for the new strain of Tarkalean flu that had been traveling the system.

_Another smooth run, I hope._

He smiled at Spock as he entered the Ready Room. Spock was already seated and reading on his PADD.

"Good morning, Spock. Is that the new Starfleet packet?"

"Good morning, Captain." Spock nodded, looking a bit troubled. He adjusted his PADD squarely in front of him. "I have perused the new information."

Jim sat down and picked up the PADD waiting for him. He thumbed the screen, giving him access to the secure information, eyes on Spock. "Something new in there? You don't look too thrilled."

"I may not be reading the situation clearly," Spock said reluctantly. "I will await your response."

_Okay, that's not good,_ Jim thought. _He's never been shy about giving me a head's up about new orders._

Opening the files, he saw that they were to stop at Bre'el IV and pick up a Commander Zaccheus Hartman from Starfleet Medical and transfer him to Starbase 11. At first glance, there seemed nothing overtly strange about the orders. They were coming from the Kazar system, and the route seemed fairly straight forward. It wasn't until he got to the end of the orders that he saw the fact that the information on their new passenger, and their side trip to pick him up, was limited to those with Level 4 Alpha security clearance or higher. He and Spock had that clearance.

McCoy's security clearance was just one step below, at Level 4.

"They don't want Bones to know the Commander's on his way," Jim said with annoyance. "Which means he won't know until Commander Hartman actually steps foot on the ship. Which probably means that Starfleet Medical is pulling a surprise inspection on him. And they're testing me to see if I am willing to leak secure information to my fiancé."

"It did strike me as such, Captain. Although, a surprise inspection isn't unheard of."

"I know. It's just the way it's worded," Jim nodded. "How long is the trip to Bre'el IV?"

"Eight hours, at our current warp speed of 6.248."

"Then let's go to warp 7, and cut that time down. Scotty's wanted to test some of the new warp subprograms that Starfleet's been working on. Work with him to get the system set up for testing, and then implement it when ready. I'll have Uhura inform Bre'el IV that we'll be arriving sooner than expected. Alert the Quartermaster that the Commander will need suitable accommodations."

"Yes, Captain."

There were a few other bits of ships business that they had to go over, but it didn't take them long. Soon Spock was on his way to the bridge to put Jim's orders into effect.

He felt relieved that Spock hadn't questioned him about his feelings on keeping Commander Hartman's arrival a secret from McCoy.

_He's just taking it for granted that I won't break protocol. I appreciate that. I just hope Bones isn't blindsided by this. I have a feeling that we're both going to be tested on our relationship, and how it affects the ship and the crew. But we both knew going in that we would be getting some attention over it, for good or bad. And that there would be times I'd have to keep secrets from him. But secrets_ **from him** _and_ **about him** _are two different things. I don't like it, but then again, I don't have to. I just have to do my job._

Jim filled his cup once more before heading for the bridge.

_Lunch is going to be fun._

 

***

 

Six hours later, Jim was on hand when Commander Zaccheus Hartman was beamed aboard. Jim had been glad that McCoy had passed on having lunch with him. He'd been busy and had decided to eat at his desk.  While Jim could do a good poker face when he needed to, he'd been glad he hadn't been forced to use it on McCoy.

Commander Hartman had proved to be a short, middle-aged human. He was neat, trim and efficient looking. He struck Jim as someone who might spend a lot of time behind a desk.

"Captain, permission to board?"

Jim nodded. "Permission granted, Commander. I have given orders that upon your arrival we will change course back to Starbase 11. We have made quarters available to you for the trip. If you would like to follow me, I can show you to them."

"Not necessary at this time," Hartman responded blandly. "I would like to have my bags taken to my room, and go straight to the MedBay. What shift is your CMO working?"

_Right to the point. He doesn't waste time._

"He is on Alpha shift."

"Then he is still on duty for a few more hours?"

"Yes," Jim nodded, "he is. This way, please."

The walk to MedBay was taken in silence, and Jim felt uncomfortable during every step of it.

_And that's probably the point. To see our reactions when they start to push us into corners. Unless, of course, I'm just paranoid. Completely possible._

On entering MedBay, Jim could see that everyone was busy with inventory rather than patients. All the biobeds were empty, which was always a good thing. Jim could see McCoy down at the storage end of the long, narrow room, where McCoy's office and the medical storage units were. He was talking to a group of his on-shift Doctors and nurses. He didn't notice them approaching until one of the nurses caught McCoy's eye and nodded to Jim and the Commander.

Anyone who'd ever known McCoy could see the surprise on his face when he saw the two visitors. Jim kept his face solemn when McCoy glanced at him, eyebrow raised as he dismissed his group and walked over.

"Captain?"

"Doctor McCoy, this is Commander Hartman, from Starfleet Medical. He's just arrived on board."

"Oh. Well, welcome aboard, Commander. How may I help you?"

Hartman nodded his head slightly at the welcome. "I am here to conduct an unscheduled audit of your medical supplies and oversee your records of such, Doctor," he said calmly. "I assume that will not unduly interrupt your usual schedule."

Jim saw various emotions flicker across McCoy's face. First, surprise, then annoyance and then acceptance. Jim didn't imagine it would have been the first surprise inspection that McCoy had been through, although Jim knew it was his first as acting CMO on the Enterprise.

"No trouble at all, Commander. We were just getting ready to finish up on an inventory of our own of the new vaccines we're carrying to Starbase 11. We can postpone that until you've had a look, if you want."

"That will not be necessary, Doctor. I would like to get started on your internal records if you don't mind. You may proceed with your inventory, sending me a copy of your report as soon as it is finished."

"Sure," McCoy said, looking from him back to Jim. Jim could see the questions in his eyes. But when Jim didn't say anything he turned back to the Commander. "My office is this way. If you'll excuse us, Captain."

Jim nodded and watched as they walked to McCoy's office. Then he turned to head back to the bridge.

_Well, if this is as bad as it gets from Starfleet, then best to get it over with. I knew Admiral Bellamy wanted Bones off the ship and into his research teams. And with us filing as officially engaged, we knew he'd notice. If he thinks he can annoy us into calling our engagement off, he's going to be unpleasantly surprised._

Jim could only get back to business and leave McCoy to it.

 

***

 

Leonard McCoy sat staring at his dinner, not knowing if he was hungry or not. The Officer's mess was full tonight. Jim was running behind but had promised to meet him there. So, McCoy had ordered, not really having any appetite.

_I can't believe they pulled a surprise inventory on me! Then Hartman wants access to_ **all** _my reports and my files? He's digging deeper than what an inventory would entail. It's probably Admiral Bellamy after me again. He's been trying to get me since the Academy. Bastard doesn't want to take_ **no** _for an answer. Probably trying to find something he can pressure me with before I get married, and he can't force a reassignment on me. I've made it clear in the past I wasn't moving from here as long as Jim wanted me as his CMO. And as long as Jim gets his first choice of willing CMO's, then this is where I'm staying._

_He can dig all he wants, he's not going to find anything out of place, or unofficial, in my reports. It's not like Jim and I sext each other in our paperwork._

Although the thought of the anyone coming across anything so blatant in his records made him smile.

_Wonder if we could've made him blush_ , he thought with amusement. _The guy seems pretty straight-laced._

"Didn't think I'd find you smiling," Jim said as he slid into the chair opposite McCoy.

"I was just wondering if we could have made Commander Hartman blush with sexting."

Jim smiled. "Is that the new bet for the year? 'Cause I'm not sure that's fair to the poor guy. We could get awful raunchy when things are boring."

In a moment, Jim's dinner arrived. Jim nodded thanks to the server and to McCoy for ordering it for him.

Jim started to eat, so McCoy did as well.

"I couldn't say anything," Jim said quietly, his eyes on his plate.

"Figured," McCoy replied, looking up at Jim. "Let me guess. Too high a security clearance for me."

Jim didn't say anything, but McCoy could see it was true.

"Jim," McCoy said with a sigh, "It won't be the last time that happens. There are things about my patients I can't discuss with you, and all kinds of universe warping things you and Spock won't be able to discuss with me. Our jobs aren't changing because we're together. I'm sure your Mom and Dad had the same problem. Same as Spock and Uhura have. I'm okay with that, just as I'm expecting you to be okay when it goes the other way. It's nothing personal, it just is the way it is."

Jim gave him a grateful look. "I don't have to like it."

"Neither do I. But this is what we've chosen to do with our lives. We'll do it."

"What's he like?" Jim asked.

"Don't know, really. He showed me his authorization, had me open my files to him, then sat in my office for two hours. I turned in our inventory report to you and him at the end of shift, told him I was going off duty, and left him to it. We both know that he's not going to find anything inappropriate in my files."

"Which is where the sexting remark came from."

McCoy laughed. "Yeah. I was just wondering how raunchy a sext would have to be to get a reaction."

Jim laughed. "Yeah, that would be evil. Too bad. You think this was Bellamy?"

McCoy shrugged. "He's been awful quiet since we filed our engagement paperwork. I haven't had any more transfer offers. But he's had a hard-on for me since the Academy. I'm not sure why."

"I _know_ why," Jim said with certainty. "You're a genius Doctor. Who wouldn't grab you if they could? Have you even met him?"

"There are _lots_ of genius Doctors out here," McCoy said, ignoring Jim's disagreeing huff. "But, yeah, I met him once, at the Academy. Bellamy called me into his office between classes. Thought I was going to get kicked out for something. Told me all kinds of crap about seeing my profile and wanting me on his team when I graduated. Thought seriously about it for a while, since he's in charge of all the cutting edge stuff. Spaceships weren't the first thing on my mind."

"But you changed your mind."

McCoy looked at Jim and smiled shyly. "You _know_ why."

Jim looked at him fondly. "You knew, back then? About how we'd turn out?"

"I knew _you_ , back then. Knew you were trouble on a pogo stick. Couldn't let you go out alone."

"Couldn't leave me behind, either," Jim said softly. "You could have been nailed for that. I, at least, had the excuse of being drugged up."

McCoy just shrugged. He'd thought about that day, when he'd snuck Jim on the Enterprise. Knew he'd probably get disciplined for it. Pike's promise to 'have words' with him could have been the mildest of it. Maybe he'd have even been kicked out. He hadn't cared. He just had to do what he needed to do, and getting Jim on that ship was what he'd needed to do. Some things you just acted on without analyzing them first. For him, that had been one of those times.

The rest of their dinner went quietly, both of them lost in their thoughts.

They called it an early night once Jim got in a bit of practice on his guitar, and McCoy had read more about his Bonsai tree. They'd been digging through some old databases when they'd had the chance, and Jim had found a guitar tutorial and had chosen the classic "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple as his first song to tackle. McCoy had had some lessons from Sulu on how to care for his tree, but McCoy had been holding off doing it himself until he learned more about them. The thought of pruning it, on his own, made him nervous.

Neither talked about Commander Hartman, or what his mission on the Enterprise might actually be. They both figured they'd find out soon enough.

 

***

 

Nurse Benson tried not to fidget while Commander Hartman stared at her from behind McCoy's desk. It was strange to see him there, since that desk was like McCoy's second home when things got bad.

"Nurse Benson," Hartman began. "This interview is a private session, and you will not speak of it with anyone outside of this office, is that understood?"

"Yes, Commander," she said quickly. The sooner this was over, the better.

"I have read your service record. You do not seem to be advancing in your career as quickly as could be expected. Tell me, Nurse, do you feel that Doctor McCoy has been unfair in his assessment of you in his reports to Starfleet Medical?"

"Uhm... No. I don't think so."

"Then any negative comments he has left on your record are not contested by you?"

_He's left negative comments?_

"I... I'm not aware of any negative comments, Commander."

"Is he a strict disciplinarian? Quick to anger? Short-tempered?"

"He... can get upset, sometimes. Especially when he's trying to save someone's life. Or if we make stupid mistakes."

"Has he ever been violent to you? Expressed his anger physically?"

"No, no violence. Not that I can recall."

"Has he been verbally abusive? Dismissive?"

"Not really... I mean, he gets upset and he can be kind of intimidating if you make a mistake."

"Intimidating?" Coleman typed something into his PADD.

"Well, I mean, it's only about mistakes. We have to be careful, because the patients depend on us."

"Do you now, or have you ever, felt that your efforts and achievements have not been clearly recognized by him?"

"Uh... no," She said. "I don't think so."

"You sound hesitant."

"No, it's not... I just... well, I was just trying to remember if I ever felt that way. I don't think so."

"I see." The Commander typed some more into his PADD. "Do you think the Doctor shirks his responsibilities?"

"What? No! Never! He works hard, and stays here past his shift a lot of times."

"Does the Captain ever visit him when he works past his shift?"

"Sometimes. On business. When he's not busy. It depends on the situation, and if they're on different shifts."

"Do they ever spend time in private, in his office?"

"Sometimes."

"With the door locked?"

"Uhm... I don't know. I always chime first."

"Why?"

"So I don't interrupt them."

"What would you expect them to be doing, that your arrival would be an interruption?"

"Talking?" she replied, then realized she didn't sound very convincing. "Discussing ship's business. Patients. Emergency procedures."

"You knew before their engagement that Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy were in a physical relationship."

"Yes, Commander."

"They have been that blatant about it?"

"No, Commander. Not really."

"Then, how did you become aware?"

"Well, it's been several months ago. I think someone noticed that Doctor McCoy had moved in with the Captain. Into his cabin."

"There was gossip about it."

"Well... some. At the time."

"Doctor McCoy seems to spend an extraordinary amount of time on the Bridge. And in the Ready Room, in meetings that the CMO would normally not be expected to attend."

"He's just checking up on the Bridge crew."

"Can the Captain not be trusted to alert the Doctor on call if there was need?"

"Sure! But.... Doctor McCoy... he just goes to keep an eye on everyone. He sometimes makes the rounds of Engineering and other departments. If he has time."

"If you should have a complaint against Doctor McCoy, would you feel free to go to the Captain or First Officer with that complaint?"

"Yes, Commander. I would."

"Would you feel free to file a complaint with Starfleet Medical?"

"Yes, Commander. But I've never felt the need to."

"According to some of the others I have questioned, it seems that Doctor McCoy has a close friendship with Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, a Communications officer."

"I believe so, Commander."

"Are you concerned that any complaint you should make about Doctor McCoy, and sent through her station, would then be reported to him by the Lieutenant?"

"No! Never."

"That is all, Nurse Benson."

As Nurse Benson left, she got the sick feeling that she hadn't been very helpful to Doctor McCoy.

 

***

 

_"Captain's log, Stardate 2261.15. The Enterprise has received a distress call from a group of scientists on Camus II, who are exploring the ruins of a dead civilization. Their situation is desperate. Many of the archaeologists have already died. Two of the survivors have been identified as expedition surgeon, Doctor Coleman, and the leader of the expedition, Doctor Janice Lester. We are the closest ship, so are responding. The vaccine shipment to Starbase 11 is not of critical need at this point, so the distress call must be our priority._

"Uhura, Let Starfleet know about the distress call, and that we're on our way. Let Starbase 11 know that we'll be delayed by an unknown amount of time, but will keep them updated."

"Yes, Sir."

"Spock, estimated time of arrival?"

"Two hours at warp seven, if we are allowed best speed."

"Kirk to Scott," Jim said as he punched the comm on his chair. "Can we use warp seven again?"

"Aye, Sir. Behaved itself well enough last time. Give me a second to set up the fail-safes again, so we can keep an eye on it."

"You got it, Scotty. Let Sulu know when you're ready. " He closed the link. "Sulu, get us to warp seven just as soon as Scotty, says we can."

"Yes, Sir."

"Spock, what do we know about Camus II?"

"The second planet in the Alpha Camus system. Once inhabited by a species dubbed as 'Yiterans', who seemed to have gone extinct about 30,000 or so Terran years ago. It is a ringed world, and has a high level of celebium radiation, which is fatal to humanoid life. All humanoid habitats must be heavily shielded."

"Their shielding didn't hold?"

"Unknown at this time, Captain."

"Let Doctor McCoy know about the call, and feed him all the info on Camus II and the radiation problem."

"Doing so now, Captain."

The two hours went quickly, and soon they were orbiting Camus II. The survivors were not answering any further communication, and Spock found that the radiation was blocking their sensors. They would have to beam down with enhanced transponders in order to make contact with the survivors.

"Tell McCoy I want him on the away team. Spock, you're with me."

The three of them beamed down, Spock monitoring the area even as they materialized. There were two people in the area, a middle-aged man and a woman who seemed half-conscious on a bed. McCoy had his bio scanner out and was checking her over even before the other man in the room came up to Jim.

"Captain! I'm Doctor Coleman. There's been a breach in our shielding."

"Doctor Coleman, are you the only two survivors?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Doctor Coleman admitted. "Our instruments have been wiped out by the radiation. Our equipment wasn't meant for this."

"Captain!" Spock said. "I'm picking up very faint life readings. Approximately seven hundred meters from here. Help will have to be immediate."

"I don't see anything immediately wrong with her. She's can wait," McCoy said, joining Spock.

"I can go with you, lead you there," Coleman volunteered. "Captain, you should wait here with Doctor Lester, in case she needs your transponder for immediate beam up."

_They're right, we shouldn't leave her alone._

"All right," Jim agreed. "Get to those people."

Once the three were out of sight, Jim went to stand beside Doctor Lester's bed.

_There's something about her I recognize. Where have I seen her before?_

It wasn't coming to him. Looking around the room, he saw two large panels that glowed with alien symbols. Fascinated, he stepped up to it.

_So, this is what's left of the Yiterans? I can see the attraction to coming all the way out here to study them. Whatever it is, it's beautiful._

At hearing Doctor Lester move, he turned. Suddenly, he felt stunned, frozen in place as his nerve ending screamed in pain. Static filled his head and kept him in place.

_What's going on? What's happened!_

Through eyes half-closed in pain, his body immobile, he could see Janice Lester spring from the bed and run to stand in front of him, her face only inches from his own. Her expression was fierce.

"You thought you could get away with it, didn't you, you _pretender_!" Lester hissed, her eyes wide in anger. "The Golden Boy, getting everything he wanted, living off his father's incompetence, and the lies surrounding him. _My_ father should have been put in charge of the Kelvin! My father would have _lived_ , and gotten the glory he deserved! And _you_ , you should have never tried to claim what wasn't rightfully yours. What was given to you on a platter, while the rest of us have been bypassed and neglected. Now, it's _my_ turn."

She moved to the platform next to him, Jim could barely see her out of the corner of his eye. Jim heard a strange sound, then felt the static in his head overwrite all of his senses, until he could make nothing out. The world twisted and turned, and then went blank. The next thing he felt was sick, all through his body. Something was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong.

_Am I dying?_

And then he did pass out.

 

***

 

Janice Lester wanted to laugh. The new body was wonderful! Invigorating, with the adrenalin rush pushing her into action. She was taller. Broader. She could feel the strength of the male body like a natural armor around her frame. And, best of all, as she looked down at Jim Kirks' body, now _her_ body, she saw the gold of the Command color shirt and the Captain's stripes on the sleeves.

_Finally! Finally! I now have what I always deserved. The command of a ship! What my father was cheated of. What the Academy conspired to deny me._

"At least you kept yourself fit, Kirk," she said happily, lifting her old body from the floor. How easy it was to carry it across the room and toss it on the bed. "With you, Kirk, I shall be merciful and put you out of your misery. You should be made to suffer, like I did. Never _good enough_ for Starfleet. Never fast enough. Never as accomplished, or as smart, as the well-known Golden Boy. All the lies they wove around me, you won't have to suffer. But if I had time, you _would_ suffer, for being the pretender you are."

She picked up a scarf, wrapping one end around each hand. She was strong now, and she would be quick.

But as she pressed the scarf around her old, unconscious body, she heard footsteps.

_Damn it! Too close._

She stood back up, unwinding the scarf and barely had time to throw it on the bed when Spock, Coleman and McCoy came back around the corner.

"Doctor Coleman?" Lester asked Coleman, seeing him look uncertainly toward her and then toward the body laid out on the bed. "Did you find any survivors?"

"Doctor McCoy, First Officer Spock and I, were too late," Colman answered carefully, repeating the crewmen's names in case she'd missed them. She recognized the names from some of her stolen records.

"There was nothing we could do, Jim," McCoy said, shaking his head as he headed toward Lester's body on the bed. He scanned it again while shaking his head. "They were gone before we could even get close to the area."

"We will need to beam down a team in radiation suits to recover the bodies, Captain," Spock added.

"Then order it done. The least we can do for them is to take them home."

"Yes, Sir." Spock pulled out his comm and hailed the ship.

"Jim? Did anything happen to her?" McCoy said, frowning at the readings on his scanner.

"No, she's been unconscious the whole time."

Lester watched Coleman. She could tell he was uncertain and on edge.

_He's not sure the switch has been made. My old body isn't dead, like we planned._

"I don't understand these readings, Jim. I need to get her aboard the ship. She's all over the place. I need to get her to MedBay."

"I don't agree," Coleman said as he examined her with his own scanner. "Moving her could make her worse."

Lester pulled out her comm and opened it. "Captain Kirk to the Enterprise. Captain Kirk to the Enterprise." The words felt awkward and strange, but McCoy and Spock didn't seem to notice. Coleman did.

"Scotty here, Captain."

"Scotty, prepare to beam the landing party aboard. Have the Emergency MedTeam standing by. Wait on sending down the retrieval team until we're up."

"Understood, Sir."

Lester picked up her old body, now Kirk's, and held it close during the beam up. Lester placed it on the gurney and then stood back, watching the MedTeam wheel it away. Spock went to the crewmen dressed in radiation suits and started to describe what they would find on the planet below. As McCoy started to follow the gurney, Lester called him back.

"Doctor McCoy, a word. Doctor Coleman, _you_ accompany Doctor Lester to the Medbay."

"Yes, Captain," Coleman said, following the gurney out the door.

"Jim?" McCoy said, looking at him strangely.

"What is her prognosis?"

"I can't say for certain, Jim, until I can get all the test done. But I'm familiar with celebium radiation. Whatever's wrong with her, it's not that. She's not showing any--"

"Don't jump the gun, Doctor," Lester snapped.

McCoy looked at him in surprise, then frowned. "Yes, Sir."

Behind her, Lester could hear the retrieval team beam down. She turned to Spock. "Mister Spock. Once the bodies have been beamed up, release them to Doctor McCoy. He will be doing full autopsies on them." Then she turned back to McCoy and said sternly, "I expect a full report on my desk as soon as possible, Doctor."

At the raised eyebrows on both her First Officer and her CMO, she turned and left the room.

_They don't like it? Let them wonder all they want. I want to see my bridge. Now._

The first stop was the Ready Room. She could study the ship and its crew all she liked, but she needed to see Kirk's orders to make sure she didn't step out of character. Having Kirk's fingerprint and retina scan confirmed, Lester went over the ship's orders. It wasn't until she was checking his personal log that she realized he'd been planning his own wedding. Lester hadn't even noticed the ring on his finger. Her finger now.

_Well, that's a surprise. To Doctor McCoy? Well, we'll nip this in the bud right now._ She took off Jim Kirk's ring and sat it on the desk. _Shortest engagement in the universe. I'll be doing the Doctor a favor when I'm finally able to get rid of Kirk, once and for all. We break up, he gets upset, I ask for a new CMO, citing irreconcilable personal issues. One less person in the end who might figure out that I've taken over. Eventually, they'll all go. Then I'll be truly safe._

Later, stepping onto the bridge was not only exciting, and scary, but like coming home in a way she'd never experienced before. It was like sitting on a throne. Lester nodded to those around her. All they could see was their Captain.

"Course, Mister Chekov?"

"One, two, seven mark eight, Sir."

"Set course for the Benecia Colony."

"Aye, Sir."

"Sulu? How long to the colony at warp six?"

"Forty-eight hours, Captain."

"Captain, that will delay our stop at Starbase 11, to drop off the medical supplies and Commander Hartman," Spock pointed out.

"Yes," Lester replied. "It can't be helped. We must take Doctor Lester to a place where she can be treated."

"Starbase 11 does have up-to-date medical facilities, Captain."

"How long until Starbase 11, Mister Chekov?"

"Seventy-two hours, Captain."

"Too long," Lester said. "Doctor Lester's illness is serious."

"If the diagnosis of Doctor Lester's illness is the critical problem, Captain, then the Benecia Colony is definitely not the place for her. The medical facilities there are much more primitive."

"They will have to serve."

Lester felt a chill as the Vulcan studied her.

"Starbase 11," Spock continued, "is fully equipped and staffed with the necessary specialists to determine exactly what is wrong with the doctor. Is that not crucial to your decision?"

"The Doctor may well be dead by then."

"Warp seven would serve to get us there in the prescribed timeframe."

Before Lester could respond, Uhura chimed in.

"Captain," Uhura said, "Shall I advise Starfleet Command of the change of plan?"

Lester gripped the arms of her chair in anger. _Why are they questioning me?_

"There's been no change of plan ordered, Lieutenant," Lester snapped. "Our arrival at Starbase 11 will merely be delayed. We are attempting to save a life, which is not unusual for the Enterprise."

"Sir, I believe Starfleet and Starbase 11 will have to be notified of our delay," Spock said quietly.

"Mister Spock, if you'd concentrate on the areas for which you _are_ responsible, Starfleet would already have been informed. Lieutenant Uhura, do so now."

"Aye, Sir."

Lester didn't miss the look that Spock flashed at the Communication's officer.

_I seem to have more homework to do,_ Lester thought frantically as she left the bridge for the Ready Room, not wanting them to see her anger. _If they can question me, I'm not doing this right._

***

 

Doctor M'Benga sat quietly in Doctor McCoy's office, waiting for Commander Hartman's questions to start. As usual, it always struck M'Benga on how his office differed from McCoy's. His was always clean of paperwork and medical tools. McCoy tended to carry things around with him, and usually his desk was awash with PADDs and pieces of equipment needing to be returned to their place. McCoy usually cleaned up before leaving each shift, as he was not really an untidy person by nature. He just got pulled away from one project to another at a moment's notice. But M'Benga always fought the urge to clean McCoy's desk for him. M'Benga had learned early that his own need to tidy personal areas needed to be kept to his own spaces. Other's never really appreciated his 'help' in the matter.

Commander Hartman struck M'Benga as a tidy person. That they had that in common. For a second he wondered if Hartman had the urge to tidy up McCoy's desk as well. Which would be ironic, since Hartman's kicking McCoy out is why the mess was there in the first place. McCoy hadn't had the opportunity to prepare the area for a guest.

M'Benga was also curious about the prolonged silence. He was comfortable with silence. He was a patient man. But M'Benga knew that in a lot of interviews silence was used to get the interviewee to talk, to say anything in order to fill the time. It was one of the first things he'd learned in his beginning Human Psychology classes. Was Commander Hartman trying to rattle him? Since M'Benga had nothing pressing, he decided that he would play it cool.

_The longer he waits, the more pressure he wants me to feel. He must be pushing hard for some reaction. Two can play at that._

It lasted for another four and a half minutes. Finally, Commander Coleman looked up.

"Doctor Geoffrey M'Benga. This interview is a private session, and will not be discussed outside of this room. Is that understood?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Sorry to have to interrupt your work shift," Commander Coleman said. "I see that you serve primarily Beta and Gamma shifts. That must be frustrating, to be forced to work so many odd hours. I see that Doctor McCoy keeps to Alpha shift most of the year."

"I like Beta and Gammas shifts," M'Benga replied casually. "They're usually calmer. Less frantic."

"But it must interfere with the daily schedule of the ship, such as recreation, meals, gatherings, other social functions."

M'Benga shrugged. "I have several friends among the crewman who prefer the later shifts. We do things as a group. Eat together."

"Do you not feel as if McCoy is bullying you into working outside the normal day shift? Taking up more than his share of the prime hours?"

M'Benga raised his eyebrows. The commander was looking for particular replies. He was basically telling M'Benga what he wanted to hear.

"We have a mutually agreeable schedule worked out between us," M'Benga replied easily, refusing to respond emotionally to the trigger words. "He prefers Alpha, I prefer Beta or Gamma. Of the two, I'm not particular, as both are quiet shifts. I believe Doctor Sanchez feels the same, since he and I work out who is to take those shifts during any particular month. Except, of course when we're obliged to switch shifts for training and evaluation purposes. Doctor McCoy served Gamma shift last November, if I remember correctly. We should not be due for a mandatory shift change until June or July, from what I understand."

"Do you not feel that Doctor McCoy uses his position as CMO to manipulate the shifts in his favor? To stay on the same shift as the Captain?"

"Since I agreed to, and appreciated, the later shifts, I can't say I've seen any manipulations on the CMO's part. His choice of shifts is, as I understand it, a perk of his position. I have no complaints about the work schedules as they stand now."

Coleman studied M'Benga for a minute, then typed on his PADD.

"What do you have complaints about?"

"I have filed some complaints with Starfleet Medical about the outdated filing and supply tracking programs we use. I have also joined Doctor McCoy in sending in various suggestion and complaint forms about the lack of medical information that is collected, and distributed, about new alien races. There are always up-dates we have trouble getting priority for when sub-space communications become a problem. We both feel that waiting until we get to a spacestation, planet, or space dock is too slow a distribution system. We both believe it must be moved to a higher priority in both Starfleet in general, and Starfleet Medical in particular."

Commander Hartman frowned.

"My question was about any complaints about Doctor McCoy, in particular."

"I have none, at this time."

"Have you had any in the past?"

"No, Sir."

Another minute passed.

"Have you ever felt that Doctor McCoy has been unduly harsh, abusive or demanding of you or other members of the Medical team?"

M'Benga thought for a minute. "Not unduly, No."

"But he _has_ been harsh?"

"He has little patience for mistakes. He expects his crew to pay attention and know what they're doing. When he's harsh, it's been for actions that deserve it. During the slow periods, the crew can get too laid back and make mistakes."

"Does his team fear him?"

"No. They respect him."

"What about his relationship with the Captain?"

"What about it?"

Hartman looked annoyed.

"Do you feel it interferes with his responsibilities as CMO?"

"No."

"Do you feel he lets the Captain interfere in his decisions?"

"No."

"Has his co-habitation with the Captain slowed down his response time when called off shift? Does he take too much time off during his own shift?"

"No."

"I see that he spends a lot of time on the bridge. Without being summoned. Do you not think that is an abuse of his privilege as CMO?"

"As CMO, I would say that his duty is to be anywhere _he_ thinks he should be, at any given point in time," M'Benga said thoughtfully. "Since he knows the bridge crew well, he is in a very good position to keep an eye on their actions, attitudes, and well-being, as well as that of the Captain's. He calls the bridge the 'pulse' of the ship. How well the bridge crew responds to any given situation signals the rest of the crew how to react. I would agree with that."

"And yet, you do not do the same."

M'Benga nodded. "I would admit that that would be one of my weakness'. Perhaps I should endeavor to visit the bridge unannounced more often during my own shifts."

Hartman frowned again. "Let me ask you, straight out. Do you think the CMO's personal relationship is a disadvantage, or a potential danger, to the ship?"

"No. I actually think it's a good thing for the ship. Doctor McCoy and the Captain work well together, as do most of the bridge crew. They are friends, as well as romantically involved. They act as support and a sounding board for each other. Which is mentally and emotionally healthy for them."

"And they don't ever have conflicts? Disagreements?"

"I would assume that they do. But I've not witnessed any personal problems between them."

"Any professional problems?"

"Not that I know of."

"And if push came to shove, do you think that the Captain could unduly influence Doctor McCoy's actions?"

"No, Sir. This is Doctor McCoy's department and his responsibility. He takes that very, very seriously."

"Thank you, Doctor M'Benga," Hartman said after he typed in some last bit of information into his PADD. He gave M'Benga a small smile. "I have to say, your residency on Vulcan is telling. I think they may have rubbed off on you a bit."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Commander."

"It was meant as such. You may go now."

 

***

 

Leonard McCoy sighed as he signed off on the eighth death certificate of a long afternoon and evening. The body of the last of the Camus II fatalities was even now being taken to stasis, for its eventual return to family. McCoy had borrowed M'Benga's office to write up his report, since Commander Hartman was still using his. He shook his head as he finished the report and thumb-sealed it.

_Eight dead of celebium radiation. Pain, fever, disorientation...what a way to die. I hope we can find out what went wrong with the habitat. It was specifically designed to_ **protect** _against celebium. Someone's head is going to roll if it turns out to be structural failure, and preventable._

He punched in several keys on his PADD, sending the report to Jim.

M'Benga's door chimed. "Come in."

Commander Hartman was standing at the door. His face expressionless.

_And as if I could forget I'm under some kind of scrutiny of my own from Starfleet Medical, Hartman's here to remind me. Did he even got to bed last night, or are my records that riveting?_

McCoy tried nodded at him, keeping his face just as expressionless. "Please come in, Commander."

"Doctor McCoy. I have finished going over your inventory and administrative records, I have started interviews with some of your staff, and will need your office again in the morning."

"I understand. If there's nothing else, then you'll excuse me if I call it a day."

Hartman tilted his head. "You're excused." Then he turned and walked away.

_Well, wasn't that sweet of him to be so obliging. I'll just stop in on Doctor Lester on my way out._

When McCoy walked into Doctor Lester's room, he was surprised to see Jim and Doctor Coleman already there. Doctor Coleman looked surprised, but Jim... Jim looked concerned and a bit... guilty? McCoy walked up to the patient to check the biobed readings. "How's she doing?" he asked.

"She's been restless," Doctor Coleman answered. "Hallucinating. I wouldn't be surprised if the radiation damage is permanent."

McCoy looked at the fluctuating readings. He then punched up her chart on the data screen. "This doesn't look like celebium radiation damage," he noted with confusion. "This could be from a severe phaser stun. The nerve damage looks just like--"

"I'm sure Doctor Coleman knows what he's doing, Doctor McCoy," Jim said shortly.

It was then that Janice Lester started twitching and mumbling, her eyes still closed. "No! No! My ship...."

McCoy was back at her side, watching the readings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jim startle at her words.

"Doctor Coleman? Didn't you suggest sedation to allow the patient to rest?" Jim asked.

"Yes, Captain." Coleman moved to the moved to the dispensary and started to type in the request for a filled hypo.

"Sedation? It's not necessary," McCoy protested, surprised. "Can't you see she's coming around?" He glared at Coleman. "A sedative is _not_ wise at this time, Doctor."

"A word, Doctor McCoy." Jim turned and walked out into Medbay.

Confused, McCoy followed him. The Medbay wasn't busy, but it wasn't empty, either.

"Doctor Coleman is more than capable of making the diagnosis," Jim said, his low voice holding a subtle warning.

McCoy looked at Jim with surprise. He looked stiff and angry. _What the hell's been going on while I've been busy?_

"I've seen damage done by celebium, Jim. I've just autopsied eight members of the research team who died of it."

"And you couldn't possibly be mistaken?" Jim asked him, watching him closely.

"Anything's _possible_ ," McCoy huffed. "But in this case--"

The door slid open and Doctor Coleman joined them. Behind him, just got a glimpse of Janice Lester, who was once again lying quite. Coleman had been quick with the sedative.

"Doctor Lester and her staff have been under my supervision for two years now," Doctor Coleman said as he walked up to them. He then looked at Jim. "If you don't follow my recommendations, responsibility for her health, or her death, will be on _your_ heads."

"Well, then, Doctor McCoy," Jim said with a placating smile. "I'm going to have to take you entirely off the case and let Doctor Coleman take Primary."

"What?" McCoy asked in surprise and confusion. "But Captain--"

"If he wants the responsibility, let him have it. Consider it some extra time off."

McCoy felt conflicted, anger and confusion warring for attention. He kept his voice low. "On this ship, my medical authority is final, Captain. I decide what the correct medical course is, for any and all patients on it."

_Which you've never questioned before._

"Doctor Coleman wants to assume the full responsibility. Let him do it."

_He can't mean that._

"I can't allow that," McCoy said. "Not when I can clearly see--"

"Doctor Coleman is now Primary." Jim announced sternly. "That's an order, Doctor McCoy. Your shift is over. I suggest you use your time off to cool down."

_What the hell was that all about? What's going on?_

"Yes, _Sir_ ," McCoy said tightly before he turned to leave.

_What has Jim got going on? Why does he need me out of the way?_

On the way out, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Commander Hartman watching them.

_Oh, great. His timing is impeccable._

All he wanted to do was get home, calm down, and wait until Jim came home and explained what was going on. Jim had to have known how stressed he already was with Commander Hartman going through his files and questioning his people.

He tried to eat something from the replicator, but it just wasn't sitting well. He checked on his bonsai, cleaned up a bit, and finally checked into his files from the couch to make sure he hadn't forgotten to sign, file, store, archive, fold, spindle or mutilate some paperwork somewhere. He called MedBay, and M'Benga told him that Doctor Lester was still sedated, and that he had been left orders that only Doctor Coleman was to be called in in case of problems. McCoy made sure that M'Benga understood that everything Doctor Coleman did was to be logged, and that he was by no means allowed to tend to any other patient in MedBay. M'Benga, apparently not caring for Doctor Coleman at all, quickly agreed with him.

He then went to pull up Doctor Coleman's files. Those he could access.

It was hours later when Jim came in through the door. He looked at McCoy, who had settled on the couch, and then around the room, as if seeing it for the first time.

"Leonard," Jim said tightly. "We need to talk."

"You _that_ pissed off with me?" McCoy asked with surprise at the use of his first name. "Because I'm more than a little put out myself. Mind telling me what the hell I did? And what is going on with taking me off Doctor Lester's case? You can't be serious about that."

"Oh, I'm _very_ serious," Jim said, pacing back and forth. "When I give you an order, I expect you to obey it. I did _not_ appreciate you questioning me. "

"You've never had a problem with it before," McCoy said getting up off the couch to stand in front of Jim who was still moving nervously. He lowered his voice and reached out to put a hand on Jim's arm. "What's going on?"

Jim stopped and glared at him, jerking his arm out of McCoy's grasp. "This isn't working."

" _What_ isn't working?"

Jim faced McCoy, his expression grave. "There's no easy way to break this to you, so here it is. We're over. Done. It's been building up and I refuse to pretend any longer. I want you packed and out in an hour."

McCoy was stunned. There just didn't seem to be anything about that whole statement he could wrap his head around, although he kept playing the words in his head over and over. For a second, he just stood there and blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," Jim said with a frown. "It's been coming for quite a while. We've both known it. You need to leave."

"I can't believe you're even saying this!" McCoy exclaimed. "Everything was fine until this morning! What's going on with you?"

"With me?" Jim said angrily. "You question _my_ judgment about putting Doctor Coleman in charge of a patient, and you wonder what's going on with _me_?"

"Jim, did you even look at the man's file? Coleman was removed from his post as CMO of his ship because of administrative _incompetence_ and _flagrant_ medical blunders! He was lucky this archeological team was willing to take any medical personnel they could drag out here, otherwise, he'd be in some little backwater, putting band-aids on with the help of an instruction manual!"

"Resentful, Doctor McCoy?" Jim sneered. "You question my judgment _so much_ you have to go digging into Coleman's past case files just to find something to use against him? Maybe that's been the problem with us all along. You've resented me and my rank, and you question anyone who confronts you about yours. Then you assumed this... relationship... was more than it was. And while it might have served us both for a while, with me pulling you up into a job you clearly weren't ready for, I certainly don't need you in _my_ cabin anymore. Now, either pack, or I'll have security come and do it for you."

McCoy was stunned, he could feel the blood leave his face as Jim ordered him out. A small part of his mind sneered at him, asking him what he expected when he was so bad at relationships. Reminding him he'd been in this same spot, once before.

_This isn't right! This isn't_ **Jim** _. Something happened to him down there, and I have to find out what._

When he didn't move, Jim dug into his pocket, pulled something out and tossed it to McCoy, who caught it by surprise. Jim then turned and headed for the door. "Be gone before I come back. Or Security will be here for you."

"Oh, I'll pack, _Captain_ ," McCoy said, practically spitting the words. "But right now, there's one thing I still have the authority to do. I'm officially ordering you to the Medbay for an extensive examination."

Jim stopped and turned, looking stunned and furious. "On what grounds?"

"To check on the development of emotional instability and erratic mental attitudes, since returning from that planet."

Jim's face flushed in anger. "You'll _never_ make that stick. It's obviously in retaliation for me finally dumping you."

"Then I'll have to let Starfleet Medical be the judge of my motives."

Jim balled his fists, his eyes glaring daggers at him. "I _won't_ submit to this petty search for revenge!"

"But you _will_ submit to Starfleet regulations," McCoy said, "as they state that the ship surgeon _will require_ a full examination of _any_ crew member that he has doubts about, including the Captain. I expect you in MedBay in one hour."

McCoy stormed out into the corridor, too stunned to care about the concerned looked on the faces of the passing crewmen. If he looked a fright, so be it. He felt like he'd just been to hell and back. When the corridor rounded enough to put him out of sight of the Captain's cabin, he ducked into an empty room and hit the comm with a shaking fist.

"McCoy to Spock."

"Spock here, Doctor."

"I've just called Jim in for a mandatory examination, to assess his competency. I'm headed to MedBay now.

"Understood. I will be there presently."

McCoy nodded, not even thinking that Spock couldn't see him do so.

He punched the comm off and took a deep breath. He opened his clenched hand and found Jim's engagement ring.

_Oh, God! What the hell happened in there? This isn't like Jim. Not any of it._

_But is he right? Am I striking back because he doesn't want me anymore? But there's never been any sign... nothing... that would explain his sudden shift in personality._

_If he fails the tests, then what? I'll have to take him off duty. He'll throw a fit._

_And if he doesn't fail?_

_Either way, this is going to get ugly._

 

_***_

 

McCoy adjusted a setting on the setting on the Robbiani dermal-optic test as Spock waited. The captain was due in at any minute.

He had filled Spock in on the argument they'd had both in MedBay and in their quarters. Spock had admitted that he felt that there had been something off about the Captain on the bridge earlier. If nothing else, Spock would officially approve of McCoy's demand that the Captain take the tests.

"This, and the other standard tests, should show anything out of the ordinary," McCoy said. "We have his previous tests to match the results to. It's supposed to reveal his basic emotional structure. If there's any change in his responses to the color wavelengths, then that'll be telling."

"Good. I have had several crewmen, including Mr. Scott, indicate to me that they feel the Captain has been acting a bit strangely since our beam down to Camus II."

McCoy sighed. "I don't know if I'm relieved it's not just me, or not. I've never reacted well to being dumped."

Spock tilted his head. "While your 'being dumped' is a very large indicator that something is amiss with the Captain, it is certainly not the only sign. I believe you have acted appropriately, even though the timing may work against you in a review hearing. I will fully support your actions in such a case."

"You may have to do that," McCoy admitted. "I've invited Commander Hartman into this examination. He'd find out about it anyway. And, about the timing on all this. I think that something happened while Jim as alone with Doctor Lester. Doctor Coleman seems hell bent on keeping her sedated, for no good reason. Maybe you can get in to see her, if they allow her to stay conscious long enough to talk."

"I shall do so, as soon as the Captain arrives."

"He should be arriving now. And so should Commander Hartman," McCoy said.

"He has the qualifications to correctly interpret the results of the test?"

"Yes," McCoy admitted. "He's got enough training to follow my explanations of the results, and understand them for himself."

The door chimed, and both Captain Kirk and Commander Hartman walked in.

"Doctor," Jim said stiffly. "Commander Hartman and I have both agreed to his presence during my exam. He's been very interested in your insistence on this unnecessary test, considering our... personal problems."

_I don't doubt it at all,_ McCoy thought with resignation, _If he's here to nail me for something, this'll be the hammer that does it. At least I informed him before Jim got to him. No telling what Jim's told him._

"I will now take my leave, Captain. Commander," Spock stated, nodding toward the Captain and Hartman.

As the door slid open, there was the loud sounds of a commotion outside.

 

***

 

James Tiberius Kirk's ship was in danger. He knew it, but he didn't know where he was, or even how to pull his way out of the deep, thick, darkness that had sat on him like a hold full of blankets. Everything felt different, yet the same. He took a big breath and tried to open his eyes, but he was having trouble doing so. It took work. There were lights on above him. He tried to focus on them. Then the walls. Then the sounds around him, of air being filtered and circulated, of beeps and hums.

_The ship. I'm on the ship. MedBay? Yes. A Private room. I'm hurt?_

That startled him, he didn't feel hurt. He was able to sit up, and he shook his head. He could hear his own heartbeat speed up, it being echoed on the monitor above him. The room was becoming clearer now. He turned to look at the monitor on the biobed. It took a couple of seconds to see them well enough to read them.

_The readings look normal. Why am I here? Where is everybody?_

He turned to sit on the edge of the bed, and caught sight of his hands. They weren't _his_ hands. They looked like a woman's. He held one up and flexed it. It was his, but not his. They felt like gloves that didn't fit. He felt his face, smooth, without the stubble he was used to dealing with all of his adult life. The cheeks were wrong, the hair was too long, there was jewelry in his ears, he was wearing a plain, blue MedBay gown. Pulling the top away from him, he looked down. He had breasts. Stunned, he shifted to check further down. Female genitals.

Memories flooded him. The planet, the dead archeologists, the machine....

He pushed off the bed. His balance was wrong. The floor farther down than he'd remembered. The jolt of his heels hitting the floor shot up his spine.

_Smaller. Shorter. My center of balance is wrong._

Trying not to rush and make things worse, he put one foot in front of the other, until he got used to how the muscles in this body responded to his commands. Then he moved toward the wall with the storage shelves. He knew which one had the mirror in it, where and how to push it to release the door that hid it.

The face that looked back at him was the face of Doctor Janice Lester.

_It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. She's changed places with me, with some machine they'd found on the surface._

_She has my body._

_She has my **SHIP**!_

He turned toward the door, but it slid open on its own. Doctor Coleman walked in.

"You should be resting," Coleman said, walking toward Jim, keeping himself between Jim and the door.

_Does he know? How can he not? Where's Bones? Can I get through him? He's bigger than I am, and I'm still feeling weak. Maybe if I can keep him talking I can slip by him._

"Where's Doctor McCoy? Why isn't he here?" He asked, trying to maneuver Coleman away from the door.

"He's been taken off your case. I'm your doctor now." Coleman grabbed Jim's arms before he could react. Coleman's grip was bruising. Pushing him back toward the bed.

"How? McCoy's the CMO of this ship!"

"He's been removed from your case, by order of Captain Kirk."

"Captain Kirk? _I_ am Captain Kirk!"

"It was done for your own protection, Doctor _Lester_." Coleman smirked.

"You _know_ who I am!" Jim accused. Jim moved quickly, twisting his arms and using the hand-to-hand combat moves he'd learned at the Academy. It was harder than Jim had remembered, this body had no muscle memory of countless practice sessions. He was slow and awkward. But he was able to push Coleman to the side and break his grip. Jim shoved a palm into Coleman's nose.

Coleman's head snapped back and he faltered. In that second, Jim was out the door.

_Main MedBay. I need to get to Bones, Spock._

"Stop her! She's delusional!"

Jim ran, trying his best to avoid the various hands that reached out to grab him. But he was slow. Too slow, and one of the nurses tackled him. Jim tried to twist and fight, but the male nurse was bigger than him. Stronger. And Jim's body wasn't responding like it should.

"Sedate her!"

"I am _James T. Kirk_! _Captain_ of this ship!" Jim yelled at the stunned faces around him, trying to keep away from the hypo that one of the nurses was holding. "Nurse Branson! Nurse Raymond! That Captain Kirk is a fraud!"

"Stop!" Spock's order made everyone freeze. Jim stopped struggling, relieved that Spock was there. "Do _not_ sedate her."

"She's delusional," Doctor Coleman protested, hand to his bloody nose. "She attacked me!"

Behind Spock, Jim saw McCoy, Commander Hartman, and his own body come toward them. McCoy looked stunned, Hartman stone-faced, and Janice Lester, wearing Jim's own face, looked scared and furious.

_She's been pretending to be me! She's got my ship!_

"Spock!" Jim said loudly as they pulled him off the floor, security now holding him. He sought Spock's eyes, willing him to believe. "I'm Captain Kirk! The imposter is Janice Lester!"

"Take her to isolation," the fake Kirk ordered the security personnel. "Maintain a twenty-four-hour watch. No one, absolutely _no one_ , is to talk to her without my permission!"

Both of the security men acknowledged the order and started to drag Jim away.

"Bones! Spock! Don't let her have my ship!"

"Everyone back to work!" Jim heard Lester snap as he was dragged out of the room. "McCoy, let's get this exam over with. I have work to do."

 

***

 

Jim Kirk paced the small holding cell for what seemed like hours, careful to avoid the forcefield that enclosed the half-circle shaped room. He knew from experience that there was no getting beyond the invisible field. It had once successfully held a genetically superior human being, after all. Even when in his best shape, Jim had been no real threat to Kahn. Now, in Janice Lester's body, he lacked even the strength of any well-trained cadet. There was going to be no breaking his way out of this one. Not by himself.

_What can I do? I have to get someone's attention. Spock... Bones... Scotty... anyone that I've spent time with, have a history with, that would believe me. Spock could mind meld with me. He'd recognize me that way, even if I couldn't convince him by any other means. They must have some idea by now that something is wrong. Lester's never been a Captain. To think she can just use my body, and walk into the situations we've been in, and just wing-it, is crazy._

_She's going to get someone killed. Or my ship destroyed. I can't let that happen._

He didn't realize how desperate he felt until he saw Spock walk in and stop to talk to the guard at his desk. The guard seemed uncertain, and started to protest, but Spock said something that the guard agreed with.

Spock nodded to the guard, who followed him to Jim's cell. Jim stepped to the back when it because clear that the guard was going to allow Spock inside with him.

Spock stepped inside. As soon as the field was up the guard stepped back, just out of earshot.

"Spock, I'm James Tiberius Kirk. Janice Lester has used some kind of life-entity transfer device on Camus II to trade places with me. I think she intended to leave me dead, and somehow failed to kill me then. Doctor Coleman is helping her."

Spock watched him closely. "An Interesting claim, but as of yet unsubstantiated by any external evidence or objective tests. The Captain has passed his mandatory physical, and the Robbiani Dermal-optic test."

Jim took a deep breath, disappointed. "Then ask me anything. Use the mind-meld if you have to."

"Your Christmas present to me?"

"Didn't get you one. I got Bones a bonsai tree, he got me a guitar. You gave Uhura a necklace that belonged to your mother, and she got you a Vulcan carving of a sehlat. Ask me more. I have years of stories you already know."

"There is no need, when I can be _sure_." Spock lifted his hand, and Jim nodded, agreeing to the meld.

McCoy had tried to describe to him what the meld he and Spock had shared on Ardana had been like. He'd seemed frustrated at not being able to properly explain it. From what Jim could tell, it was nothing like the meld he'd experienced with Ambassador Spock from the other reality. That had been like a quick, thorough, info-dump with background emotions. His McCoy and his Spock had seemed to have had a more personal experience than that. 

_'Jim, it's a bit like sharing a tiny 'fresher stall with someone you haven't been physically close to_. _You feel a bit too crowded, a bit too personal, and get concerned with what the other person's gonna end up seeing about you, even though it's gotta happen. Especially when Spock's so good at blocking out his own side. I can see why Vulcan's wouldn't want to meld with just anyone unless it was an emergency."_

He must have had that on his mind when Spock touched his face and connected.

**Our minds are one...**

There was that crowded feeling McCoy described, then suddenly he was in a dark room, and Spock was there. It was very, very real. Jim looked down and saw his own hands. His own body and uniform. Behind the concern, Jim could feel Spock's dry amusement at the memory of McCoy's description of the process.

**_"You got that, huh? Yeah, he has a way with words._ ** **"**

**_"We do not have much time. But I can say with certainty that we will not need to go deeper. You_ ** **are _James Tiberius Kirk."_ **

**_"How do we get us switched back to our original bodies?"_ **

**_"We may need to return to the device," Spock answered. "Without knowing how this was done, there is no other way I know of to reverse the process."_ **

**_"To do that, we have to get Lester out of the Command chair and under guard."_ **

**_"I can confront her, and challenge her to prove that she is the Captain. She has no history on this ship, and will know the crew by name and sight only, even if she has been studying the files. There is already enough doubt among the crew about her actions. They will listen. If we can show that she obviously is missing the working, intimate knowledge of the ship, then McCoy will be able to remove her from duty. If not, then the crew may be convinced to disregard her orders. But, that will not put you back in command. Nor guarantee the process can be duplicated or reversed."_ **

**_"I'll deal with that if I have to. Just_ ** **don't _let her have this ship, Spock!"_ **

Jim could feel Spock's agreement as he pulled away. He was suddenly back in the cell, blinking against the glaring light.

At the sounds of steps from outside, Jim saw Lester storming in with more security in tow. Among them were Coleman, McCoy, Scotty and Commander Hartman.

"I knew this would happen!" Lester exclaimed in satisfaction. "Guards, remove Spock from that cell and put him in another."

"Captain!" McCoy protested. "You have no cause to lock him up!"

"He disobeyed a direct order. Take him into custody!" Lester yelled to the stunned Security guards, who finally moved to comply.

Lester went to the data screen and punched in a code. "Attention, all personnel," Lester announced over the ship-wide feed. "First Officer Spock has been placed under arrest. He has conspired with Doctor Lester to take over the ship from your captain. A hearing will be convened at nine am tomorrow morning to consider the charges and specifications of a general court-martial on the charge of mutiny."

The words seemed to echo eerily throughout the ship. Jim knew most of the crew, not privy to what had been going on, would be confused and stunned.

No one said a word as Spock complied, and was shut into another cell.

 

***

Leonard McCoy strode quickly down the corridor to his cabin, his fists clenched in fury. As he passed, crewmen glanced at him, concern and confusion on their faces. McCoy knew that gossip would fill in all those who had no idea what had just happened.

_I don't know what the hell is going on, but there's no way that that's Jim Kirk. I have to find something that'll prove it. But what?_

He didn't know what he could do. He'd been sure that the tests he ran would turn up something. But he found nothing.

_Maybe there's something in our rooms. Something out of the ordinary._

He knew it was a long-shot. They'd been on Camus II early that morning, and it'd been less than twenty-four hours since then. If nothing else, he'd be able to pack his things and take refuge in his old cabin.

Frustrated, he punched the code into their door.

A small light flicked red.

Sighing, he concentrated and punched the code in again.

It flickered red again.

_He's locked me out already?_

He tried his Medical Override.

No response.

"Len?" McCoy turned and saw Uhura coming toward him. She looked upset and worried. "Len? What's going on? What happened?"

"We can't talk here," McCoy replied quietly. "I've been locked out. We'll need to go to my old quarters."

"Who locked you out?" She asked. "Not Jim?"

"He broke up with me this afternoon, ordered me out."

She blinked in surprise. "Jim? Len, I can't believe that."

"It's true. We need to go to my old quarters, or yours," he said, taking her arm to turn her away from the door to the Captain's cabin. "Mine is closer."

_There has to be something we can do! Pretty soon, the Captain, whoever he is, will have us all locked up. Then Heaven help the rest of the crew._

 

***

 

In the early hours of the morning, McCoy and Uhura walked into the Confinement area. They both carried PADDs and walked unhurriedly.

_I hope this works,_ McCoy thought nervously. It was one thing to pull a fast one on strangers. Another to do so to his own crew. He saw Spock in one cell, and Janice Lester in the other. They were next to each other, which meant they could neither see nor hear the other. Both were awake, Lester pacing the small room, and Spock seated on his bed, in a meditative position. Both watched him and Uhura as they strode forward toward the cells.

_Can that really be Jim? Uhura was right, there's just too much coincidence for there to be nothing in the fact that one thinks she's Jim, and Jim isn't acting like himself._

They got halfway to the cells before the guard stopped them.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. Lieutenant. The Captain has given orders that _no one_ is to talk to the prisoners."

McCoy stepped back. "I'm the CMO of this ship, and I intend to see my patient."

"Those are my orders, Doctor."

"Has those orders ever included the CMO?"

McCoy could see the guard falter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Uhura had taken about two more steps closer to the cells. She held her PADD in front of her, her body blocking their view. He saw Lester's eyes widen slightly as she looked at Uhura. McCoy knew Lester... Jim... was reading the instructions scrolling across the PADD.

"Not before, Doctor. But I'm afraid the Captain's instructions are very clear. You are not allowed to talk to the prisoners."

"Was this a written order?"

"It has been entered as so in the logs."

"Let me see it then."

As McCoy was escorted to the guard's station, he saw Uhura turn toward Spock. The guard was punching up the Captain's order when McCoy saw Uhura turn toward him, the PADD blank in her hands. She had completed her task. She stood there, waiting patiently, while McCoy scanned the order. He saw that Doctor Coleman was the only person, besides the Captain, that could have access to the prisoners.

"What happens if either one of them gets ill?" McCoy asked with frustration. " _Someone's_ got to be able to help them."

"As you can see, Doctor," the guard said evenly, with great patience, "Doctor Coleman would be able to attend any medical emergency we might have."

"Fine," McCoy said with poor grace. "Won't be on my head if something happens to either of them. You _know_ Doctor Lester has been exposed to severe radiation, don't you? Her meds are due to run out, and she'll probably be ill when they do. She keels over dead, it's his head, not mine, that'll roll for it."

McCoy stormed out, Uhura following him.

It wasn't until they got back to McCoy's room that he relaxed. Uhura herself sighed as the door closed behind them.

"Did they both read it?" he asked.

Uhura nodded her head. "Yes. I was able to spot the security cameras and I think their view was blocked. Only Spock and Lester could see what we wrote."

"Spock and Jim, you mean."

Uhura shook her head. "Yeah, I do. It's hard to believe she could really be Jim. I know Jim was acting... odd... on the bridge. Spock and I had talked about what went on. But to think that that was actually Janice Lester, and Jim is in her body, is... well... just so strange."

"I know, but that has to be the answer. Because if it's not..."

_If it's not, then something is wrong with Jim. And after all those tests I ran on him, I wouldn't know what else to do._

_I just can't believe that was him breaking up with me. It just_ **couldn't** _be him._

"I know," he admitted. "But you'd better get to that auxiliary station before things get interesting. You sure you can get the Ensign on Gamma shift to take a break and leave you to it?"

She nodded. "I've been training him, so I can assign him to check all the relays on the ship if I have too. I can keep him away all day if it came to that." She leaned over and gave McCoy a hug. "We'll get what we need. Just try and get some sleep."

"No chance of that," McCoy admitted, releasing her. "Come by if you get anything. No matter how long it takes."

"Promise."

With that, she left. Looking around his old cabin, he realized he had no idea what he was going to do to fill the time. His whole life was in that other cabin. He suddenly felt like the rest of the stuff there, discarded and forgotten.

_Enough of that,_ he told himself sternly. He dug out Jim's ring from his pocket and looked at it again. _I have a promise to keep, and I'm damn well going to make it work._

 

***

 

James Kirk quit pacing and lay on the bed in the cell, thankful they'd given him back the outfit he'd arrived in. That MedBay shift was unnervingly open. He kept one eye on the clock, needing to wait until the time Uhura had specified before he acted.

_Smart move. I'd never have thought of using the PADD to convey a silent message across the Confinement area. And she and McCoy did it right under the guard's nose. We get through this, and we'll have to talk with Lieutenant Hendorff about that, now that he's de facto Head of Security. Not that I blame the guard. But I don't want anyone I put in here to be able to communicate the same way._

He had stuffed himself with the breakfast they'd had beamed to his cell table, and had drunk as much water as he could hold. Now he just had to wait another few more minutes.

_If this works, and it has to work, I'll need to get down and dirty pretty fast, before Coleman catches on. If I can keep him off balance, maybe he won't think it through._

He lay still, watching as the last few seconds ticked down. Then he gave it another minute for good measure.

_Here goes._

He rolled over so that the guard wouldn't see him, and stuck his finger down his throat. Hard. He gagged and rolled over just as his meal all came back up. It hit the floor with a satisfactory splat.

As he moaned and writhed, he could see the guard, an ensign Rickland if he remembered correctly, punch several buttons on his desk. The sound from his cell had been blocked off after Spock's arrest, so that they couldn't communicate. Jim could hear the soft whine as the sound shield was removed and the guard could now hear him.

"Oh! Oooooohhh!" he groaned holding his stomach. "Help me!"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know! I'm dying!"

The guard then punched in more buttons and spoke into his comm. Jim knew he'd be calling Doctor Coleman. No way would Lester allow anyone else to attend to him. It took so long for the Doctor to arrive that Jim knew he must have pulled him out of bed somewhere.

_God, I'm afraid to ask what bed he's been in. I don't think I want to know._

"What's the problem?" Coleman asked as he walked up to the cell, accompanied by the guard.

Jim just moaned, letting his body language and vomit speak for itself.

"All right, let me in," Coleman said with aggravation, pulling his portable med-kit from his waist.

Jim didn't move when the forcefield came down, nor when Coleman leaned over to scan him.

"I think you'll want to talk in private," Jim said in a whisper. "Because your girlfriend is in big danger."

Coleman froze for a moment. When Jim looked up he could see in Coleman's eyes that he'd hit a nerve.

"We need privacy," Coleman told the guard. The guard looked uncertain. "Medical privilege. What she says has to be confidential."

The guard nodded and went back to his desk and Jim could hear the small whine that meant the force field was back to blocking sound.

"What do you want?" Coleman asked angrily.

"I was going to warn you, but now I think I should be thanking you instead," Jim smiled. "After all, I get to live a long, full, life now."

Coleman blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Your girlfriend is sick," Jim said with an evil smile. "Ever hear of Xenopolycythemia?"

Coleman blinked. "I... no...I..."

"Look it up. Fun genetic disease. I was born with it. I had, maybe, a year before it started up. Early onset. Then a very painful year to live after that. It's always fatal."

Coleman looked stunned. "You'd never have made it through Starfleet with something like that! They would have caught it at some point!"

"Oh, they never look for it. McCoy found it by accident. He's been covering for me. Would have covered for me for as long as he could. He's an expert at that kind of stuff, getting people to hang on until the last second. Keeping them functional." Jim laughed. "Why do you think I wined and dined him? Took him to my bed, after all the ladies I was with at the Academy? Because then he'd agree to cover it up. Just like you're covering for Janice Lester, and her hi-jacking of my body. She's just using you, like I was using him."

"No. That's _not true_. She loves me, and I love her. She needed your command. She deserves it!"

"Well, she won't have it much longer, in any case. I take it that Lester's broken up with McCoy. So, no more falsified medical reports for Captain Kirk. Especially now, if McCoy thinks he's lost it. Mental degeneration from the disease. He'll pull out that trump card eventually. If he really thinks I'm mentally unstable. If he thinks she is."

Jim laughed at the look of horror on Coleman's face.

"And you won't be around to help her. You know that, right? She'll never give up the ship, and Starfleet will never let you serve on one."

"But... that's not right! It can't be. Not after what we've done to get her in command!"

"Those eight people, those scientists. You both killed them, didn't you, to get them out of the way?"

" _I_ didn't kill them!" Coleman insisted. "I couldn't. But she had no choice. They'd discovered what the machine can do. They would have tried to stop her. She had to get rid of them."

"Did she pick me on purpose?" Jim ask, curious. "Or was it just the luck of the draw? 'Cause she drew the death card when she chose me, that's for sure."

"No! You're lying! She's followed you for years. Hated you. Blamed your father for not saving hers. She would have known if you were sick."

"Would she?" Jim shrugged. "No one else knew. If she did, then I guess she has a death wish. Because now she's stuck in a body that's dying. And all _I_ have to do is do some rehab, pretend to be sane, and I'll get to go free. Eventually. And I get to keep a healthy body."

Jim raised his hands and looked at them. "It'll be different. Not what I'm used to. But, hey, maybe I can hook up with Doctor McCoy again. He might like this body better. He'll believe me anyway. At least five of us will know the truth. Four after Lester kicks it. Maybe I'll even go through the Academy again. Who knows? I could be considered a genius. Get perfect grades."

Jim smiled in delight. "After all, I've taken the classes once already. I could be Captain again, some day."

" _No_. It can't be true. We... we can try and reverse it. If what you're saying is true, she can try again on someone else.

Jim shrugged. "Look it up in McCoy's files. Check his coffee cup for the password. He's lazy that way. But you'd better hurry. The trial starts in an hour. Once they put me away on Benicia, Lester's a dead man walking. And I get to start my life all over again. Free and clear."

"I will," Coleman said angrily. He stepped back and signaled for the guard to let him out. Two guards appeared, and under cover of phaser Coleman was let out and Jim was moved to another cell. Jim watched as the hazmat team came in to clean up the mess in the other, his mind racing.

_Was it enough?_

_***_

McCoy stood with Scotty, both in their blues, watching as Janice Lester, in Jim's body, prepare the small room for the coming trial.

"Can he even do this?" McCoy asked Scotty, who looked worried. "I barely paid attention in that class. How can he be the Officer in charge of a court-martial when he's not only the one bringing the charges, but the one who's command Spock is accused of trying to take? Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

"I'm afraid he can," Scotty admitted with a scowl. "All he needs is at least than three officers of command or flag rank. And he's got that, counting himself."

"Who are the other two?"

Scotty winced. "He's got me and Commander Hartman."

"Hartman? Oh, man, he isn't going to know if the Captain's actions are out of character or not. Just what we needed, a stranger on board."

"That will be a problem," Scotty said with a sigh. "But the question is, can the Captain prove not only that Spock disobeyed a direct order, but mutiny? When has talking to a prisoner meant mutiny? He didn't try to break her out."

Lester stood at the center of the head table, and Scotty nodded at McCoy and took his place on one side of Lester. Hartman came in quietly and sat on the other side. Everyone settled into place, McCoy at the back of the room which held Sulu, Chekov, and some other bridge personnel. Uhura, stone-faced and professional, sat at the transcriber's station. Spock sat alone, at a table off to the side, a small PADD in front of him.

_This had better work, or we really will have a mutiny take place, once we tell Scotty what's really going on. He'll believe us, I'm sure of it._

"I hereby declare this Court-martial in session," Lester announced. "The charges against Commander Spock are disobeying a direct order, and conspiracy to mutiny."

There was a low buzzing of the crew around McCoy as they murmured their disbelief.

"We have convened a full council of Command rank, consisting of myself, Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott, and Commander Zaccheus Hartman from Starfleet Medical. We will now proceed. Commander Spock, have you chosen council?"

"I wave my right to council."

"How do you plead to the charge of disobeying a direct order?"

"I plead not guilty."

The room was silent.

"How do you plead to the charge of mutiny?"

"I plead not guilty."

Lester smiled, and it made McCoy's skin crawl to see that look on Jim's face.

"Then we'll get right to the questioning," Lester, clearing watching the audience out of the corner of her eyes, came around the table and walked toward Spock. She stood tall, straight and confident as she stared down at Spock. "Did you or did you not visit Doctor Janice Lester, in her cell, against my direct orders that she be held in isolation and no one was to have contact with her?"

"Yes, I did," Spock answered calmly.

The Captain grew stern. "Then how can you plead not guilty, when you admit you disobeyed my direct order?"

"Because you, not being Captain James T. Kirk, cannot give a command order on this ship."

The surprise was loud among the spectators. Scotty looked confused. Hartman was as blank-faced as ever. But watching closely, McCoy could see Lester falter for just a brief second.

_She had to know that that accusation was coming. She's just not as well prepared for this as she thinks she is._

Lester laughed, looking at the crowd, "Are you sure your eyesight is all that, Mister Spock? Obviously, I'm Captain Kirk."

"The body is that of Captain Kirk, but the entity inside is that of Doctor Janice Lester. Therefore, you are not, in truth, the Captain of this ship."

"That's a wild tale, Mister Spock. But your personal delusions have no place in this court-martial."

"I disagree, _Sir_ , as I cannot be guilty of disobeying a command you are not qualified to give. Nor can I conspired to mutiny, if you are, in fact, not fit to be Captain."

"And just how do you think you can prove such a ridiculous accusation?" Lester sneered.

"By my testimony, and the testimony of others."

"I think..." Lester said with forced calmness, as she walked back behind the table to sit down, "that Mister Spock is trying to prove his innocence by reason of insanity."

"I have a question," Scotty said, holding up his hand and looking more than a bit lost and confused.

"You may present your question," Lester said calmly, eyes firmly on the pad before her.

"Mister Spock," Scotty began, "Why do ye not think that this... Captain... person... is _not_ Captain Kirk?"

"I have mind melded with the person who inhabits the body of Doctor Janice Lester. That person is the true James T. Kirk."

"But... how does that happen?" Scotty asked incredulously.

"While on the planet Camus II, Doctor Janice Lester incapacitated Captain Kirk while the two of them were alone. Then she used a newly discovered alien device to switch between them, that essence which makes us all individuals."

Lester's eyes shot up. "And do you think you can prove that, Mister Spock?"

"A mind meld does sound a wee bit subjective, Mister Spock," Scotty added uncertainly. "We can't all mind meld to substantiate your claims."

"I have two witnesses, and I ask that they be brought before the court."

"And who are these, _so called,_ witnesses?" Lester asked with a laugh.

"One, is Captain Kirk himself, in the body of Janice Lester. The other is a Doctor."

"Doctor McCoy?" Lester asked with mock surprise. "He is hardly an impartial witness. I will admit, for the record, that I have broken off our engagement, finding the relationship unworkable. Doctor McCoy is unarguably upset, and at this point clearly feeling particularly spiteful towards me."

The crowd gasped, many casting furtive glances his way. McCoy felt his face flush with a new flood of anger. _I_ knew _she was going to use that as an excuse to keep me from having my say. She can also use it against me to get me off of the ship. Soon, everyone who really knew Jim will be weeded out and gone._

"That is _not_ the Doctor I am referring to," Spock said. "I wish to call Doctor Coleman to the stand."

"What?" Lester yelped in surprise. "Doctor Coleman is not a part of these proceedings. He may _not_ be called."

"Oh, I think he should be," Scotty said looking at Lester in surprise. "If Mister Spock wants him to testify, _I'd_ like to hear him."

"I as well," Commander Hartman said giving Lester a disapproving look. "He has the right to call whatever witnesses he wishes."

"Fine, we'll take a recess while we request his presence," the Captain snapped.

"No need, _Sir_ ," Spock replied. "I believe he was taken into custody just a few minutes ago."

"Custody? I never ordered him arrested!" Lester yelled shrilly. "What's the charge?"

"I believe that Lieutenant Hendorff is even now bringing Doctor Coleman to these proceedings, Sir. And the charge is breaking into secured medical records in the MedBay computers."

"What?" The Captain said with disbelief. "That can't be true."

There was a bit of commotion as the doors opened and Lieutenant Hendorff came in, phaser in hand, with a devastated looking Coleman in tow. Two more security guards were behind him.

"Captain, I have brought Doctor Coleman here from confinement."

Lester stood, looking as if she were going to yell something, then bit her lip and visibly took control of herself. She looked at Hendorff. "He was breaking into the medical records?"

"Yes, Sir," Hendorff replied. "We were alerted by Doctor M'Benga that there had been an unauthorized entry into Doctor McCoy's office. We found Doctor Coleman at Doctor McCoy's desk, reading some confidential files. He had somehow hacked through the security settings."

Lester looked stunned. "Well... then, take him away and confine him. He can't be trusted as a witness--"

"It's over, Janice," Coleman said forlornly, his eyes only for her. "You can't stay where you are. You _have to_ switch back."

"You don't know what you're saying!" Lester spat back. She came around the desk and practically charged at him. "You're just as crazy as everyone else!"

"Kirk's body is dying!" Coleman yelled. "I've seen it in his files. His lover's been covering for him! Janice, you _can't_ stay there and die in his place. _You have to switch back!_."

"You're insane! _I am not Janice Lester_!" Lester yelled, red-faced and furious. Then she gasped, doubled over and grabbed at her head.

McCoy pushed through the now standing crowd, pulling out his scanner as he approached her. His readings flickered strangely, then settled. "Her blood pressure's through the roof. We need to get her to MedBay."

The door behind them opened again, and another guard came in with Jim, in Janice Lester's body. He looked dazed, his hand up to his forehead.

"Spock!" Jim yelled as soon as he saw Spock standing at the defenses' table. "We switched, for just a second! I was in my own body, then was pulled back."

"Then the two of you must still be linked, and the process not fully complete," Spock said. "We should be able to reverse the process with the original machinery. If Doctor Lester has left it undestroyed."

"No!" Lester yelled, pushing McCoy away. "I _will not_ go back. I don't care what Kirk's body is doing. _I will not go back to mine_! I deserve this command! My father died for it! I will not go back!"

With a hiss of McCoy's hypo, Lester collapsed. "We need to get her to MedBay, now. She's going to have a stroke if we can't get that blood pressure down!"

Soon, the Emergency Team was coming in through the doors, with M'Benga in charge. People stood around quietly as Lester was put on the gurney and McCoy conferred with M'Benga about the patient's condition. Coleman, close to tears, broke down and begged to be allowed to go with Lester. Scotty and Hartman discussed it briefly, and decided he should go back to confinement until they decided how to proceed.

McCoy felt conflicted. He wanted to stay with Jim's body, make sure nothing was damaged. But he had to stay and see this through.

Once Lester was wheeled out and Coleman removed, everyone looked to Commander Scott, who looked just as confused and surprised as those around him.

"Well, that was a wee bit 'o drama," Scotty said as he looked around the room. He took a breath and set his shoulders. "I call for a vote, with Commander Hartman, to dismiss this proceeding, and declare Command Spock absolved of all charges. I vote aye."

Commander Hartman blinked several times, as if processing everything he'd seen. Finally, he nodded "I vote yes to both propositions."

"Well, since it's obvious that the Captain is outvoted, even though he apparently isn't qualified to vote anyway, we can adjurn--"

"If I may," Spock interrupted, "I want to include in the official record the recorded conversation between the real James T. Kirk, currently residing in Janice Lester's body, and Doctor Coleman. A conversation that was recorded almost an hour ago in the holding cell where James Kirk was confined. In it Coleman confesses to being an accessory not only to the take-over of Kirks' body, in order to impersonate a Captain and gain control of his ship, but to arranging the deaths of the eight other scientists on Camus II."

"Oh, be my guest," Scotty said with relief and Hartman nodded his assent.

Spock signaled Uhura, who was smiling smugly, to play the recording not only for the record, but for those in attendance. All were quiet as they listened to James Kirk, with Janice Lester's voice, goad Coleman into confessing not only his part in the plan, but Lester's murder of the other scientists. The room was quiet during the recording, and McCoy went to stand next to Jim as it played.

_We really didn't need it after all, but at least it's tied up some loose ends rather nicely. Thank God Uhura had come up with the idea of taping the conversation and having Jim be the one to prod Coleman into confessing. The guy was so distraught over his girlfriend's future that he never even thought about what he was saying. And arresting Coleman for breaking into Medical, well it was only going to push him over the brink. Now we can keep him confined over that as well. Coleman won't be practicing medicine anywhere for a while._

_I can hardly believe it worked so well._

"Well, the baw's on the slates," Scotty pronounced after the recording was done. At the blank looks around him, he added, "Game over, in other words."

"I have something to say, while on the record," Hartman said, looking at McCoy and Jim Kirk. "Since the Captain, or shall I say the body of James T. Kirk, has been confirmed to not actually _be_ James T. Kirk, and is therefore unfit for command, it does not mean that the person inhabiting Doctor Lester's body is fit to take command, either. No matter who he or she claims to be."

Spock nodded, "Once all charges have been officially dropped, I will then take over command of the Enterprise."

"Which is bonnie fine with me," Scotty said quickly. "I have nae problem with that."

Hartman nodded. "Also, I'd like to get Doctor McCoy's testimony on record."

Everyone looked at McCoy. _Now what?_  But he quickly took the oath and stood in front of the council table, at attention.

"Doctor McCoy," Hartman began, "to clear up the record, does Captain Kirk, or should I say the body of Captain Kirk, suffer from any fatal diseases or conditions, as claimed by Doctor Coleman."

"No, Sir, he does not," McCoy said with relief. _That one was easy enough._

"So, the reports you entered into the Captain's official medical log were false?"

_Oh, crap. I should have known he'd latch onto that. Not much I can do but to come out with it._

"I... adjusted... the Captain's medical records in order to present Doctor Coleman with misinformation. The records were behind the security wall, and he would have had to break into them to see them. They were not records that have been uploaded to Starfleet Medical, nor will they be. Doctor M'Benga witnessed me entering them just a few hours ago. He can verify that they were not in the records previously."

"I see..." Hartman tapped something into the PADD McCoy was quickly becoming to believe held his doom. "And how was Doctor Coleman able to break through your security protocol?"

_Damn it! They're gonna flay me alive for this. He's going to catch it. I know it._

"I wrote my security password on the bottom of the coffee cup that was on my desk. But," McCoy added hastily, "that was only in this one instance, to show that Doctor Coleman was willing to break into secure files in his attempt to help Doctor Lester."

"And while he was in the Captain's files, did he also have access to other, _personal_ records. Those of all the _other_ crewmembers on the ship?"

_Damnit! He's not going to give me a fucking inch, is he?_

"Yes, Sir." McCoy swallowed thickly. "But the password and security settings were changed once Doctor Coleman was arrested. Sir."

Hartman tapped into his PADD again.

"Thank you for your candor, Doctor. Those are all the questions I have."

Scotty cleared his voice to get attention. "Well, then, I declare all charges against Commander Spock as having no merit, and are hereby dropped. And Doctor... uh... Captain Kirk, in his currently-female form, is also free of any charges and confinement." Scotty looked at Spock, his expression asking if that was good enough. Spock nodded slightly. "All righty, then," Scotty said with a pleased sigh. "We're done here. Court adjourned."

The crowd started talking excitedly among themselves. McCoy and Jim walked up to Spock and Scotty.

"Mister Scott," Spock said, "as acting Captain, I am requesting you prepare the ship to make all speed back to Camus II. Can we maintain warp seven for that distance?"

"Yes, Sir. She'll make that speed easily for that long."

"Then prepare to do so. I will be giving Sulu the order to reverse course momentarily."

"Yes, Sir," Scotty said to Spock, then looked at Jim and nodded. "And welcome, back... Uh... Captain."

"Thank you, Scotty," Jim said with a slight smile. "I appreciate all you've done for the crew."

As Scotty left, McCoy realized that Hartman had slipped out.

"Well, that was fun," McCoy said tiredly. "I just hope we can get Lester, or Coleman, to tell us how the machine works. I have a feeling that they're both going to be furious at how we lied to Coleman to trick him."

"Coleman's in isolation," Jim said. "We don't have to tell him that my illness was a lie. Spock, you need to make sure that Security understands that this time, there can't be any communication slip ups. They can't talk to each other or anyone else."

"I will attend to it, Sir," Spock replied. "Now that you are out of confinement, Jim, I suggest both of you rest. Janice Lester will be confined as soon as it is medically feasible. Leonard, I think it would be wise to let Doctor M'Benga attend to Lester until the exchange can be made to return Jim to his own body."

"You're right, Spock," Jim admitted. "I think we need some down time. It's been too strange to really process everything."

It _was_ strange, listening to Jim's words come out of Janice Lester's mouth. And as much as something had warned him that the body of Jim Kirk hadn't had Jim in it, something made him feel as if it really was Jim in this one. He'd had so little time with 'Janice Lester' before it all went south that he really hadn't thought about how odd it was going to be.

"C'mon, Jim," McCoy said. "Let's go home." He held out his hand and Jim took it.

The hand was small, but warm. Jim smiled tiredly.

The walk back to their cabin was long, and they gathered a lot of stares. Gossip surrounding the court-martial had apparently not made the rounds yet. It wasn't until McCoy punched in the passcode and it blinked red that he remembered.

"Shit," McCoy said tiredly. "I forgot. Lester changed the passcodes to lock me out. Think we can get Scotty to jimmy it open and reset it for us?"

"In a bit," Jim said with a sigh. "Let's go to your cabin instead. I'd kind of like to be myself again when I go home."

They walked to his cabin, and once again McCoy thought how empty and strange it felt as the door slid shut behind them. He and Uhura had been up all night planning on how they could get Coleman and Janice Lester to confess. It felt like more of a war room than a place where he'd lived for so long.

They looked at each other then, and McCoy held open his arms.

Jim came in to embrace him.

_So much smaller. Smells different as well as looks different. I know it's Jim, but it feels so wrong._

"Jim?" McCoy said softly, as he hugged Jim tighter. Jim barely came up to his chin now. At the same time he felt as if he were betraying Jim in some way by what he needed to say. "I don't... I don't think I can do much more than this with you."

Jim laughed into McCoy's chest. "I was just thinking the same thing. This isn't my body. It wouldn't feel right. It doesn't feel right. And it pisses me off that Lester may have spent the night with Coleman, in my body."

McCoy sighed and pushed Jim back a bit. "He did stay with Lester. In our cabin. Uhura and I kept computer tabs on them all night. That's why we had to get Coleman's confession just minutes before the trial. So the two couldn't compare notes and Lester couldn't talk Coleman down out of his panic. I can only assume..."

"Yeah," Jim shrugged, his eyes sad. "I figured. And it pisses me off in a way I can't even explain. I loathe the thought of what she may have done with my body. I can't do that to hers. Not even in revenge."

"There is something you _can_ have back, though." McCoy went to his old bedroom and opened a drawer. He then came back to Jim and took his hand. He dropped Jim's engagement ring on the small palm. "It probably doesn't fit, but it's still yours."

Jim closed his eyes, then held it back out to McCoy. "You keep it until this is over, one way or the other. I don't want it to get lost, or anyone else to get it." His smile was a weak one. "It's still mine, just babysit it for a while."

McCoy nodded and took it back to the drawer he'd tucked it into earlier. "Want a drink? I think we've got some nasty scotch left. Some of Scotty's brew we never bothered to finish."

"I could take a bit," Jim agreed.

McCoy went to dig it out of a cabinet, where it was stashed against emergencies. It was drinkable, but just barely. Not one of Scotty's better batches from his hidden still. McCoy programmed two glasses from the replicator as Jim sat quietly on the couch. He poured them both out a shot and set the bottle on the coffee table. Then he sat down by Jim.

They both were quiet for a few minutes, needing the time to let the drink take the edge off. Neither had slept for a long time.

"It may not work," Jim said quietly, watching McCoy.

"I know," McCoy admitted. "We may have to just learn to live with it."

"You don't have to."

McCoy gave him a scowl. "Of course I do. I don't care if you end up in a Horta someday. That's not going to change the way I feel about you."

Jim's smile was more amused this time. "But here we are, suddenly able to explore all kinds of new sexual situations, a porn writer's dream, and yet... we both don't seem to want to."

"That's because it's still a shock," McCoy said, taking another drink. He reached out and took Jim's hand. "Jim, if this is how it's to be for the rest of our lives, we'll get used to it. We can start out slow, re-learn how to be together again. You'll learn how to work that body, how to feel good in it. You can show me what's new, what works and what doesn't. I can learn to quit feeling like I'm cheating on you just by holding your hand. And we don't..." he said, squeezing Jim's hand and getting one in return, "we don't postpone the wedding if we don't have to. If there's no chance of you getting back into your original body, we just make sure this combination is legally declared James T. Kirk. I don't want to sign any papers making me the husband of Janice Lester."

Jim laughed. "That, I agree with. Maybe... it wouldn't be so bad. Not if Starfleet is willing to accept me as _me_ , and I can still command."

"You have the knowledge and the training. Everything you've ever done still belongs to _you_. _That's_ the important thing."

"I'd have to get fit again. Lester's reflexes are for shit. I have no strength built up and no muscle memory. Maybe Uhura can give me some pointers on balance."

McCoy nodded. "She's a good one for that. I've seen her fight. She scares the shit out of me when I see her go at it. _I_ wouldn't fight her. I'd give up first."

Jim chuckled. "You always were horrible at hand-to-hand. I could probably beat you even in this body."

McCoy smiled. "Probably could."

Jim looked down at the drink in his hand. A few minutes passed while they contemplated the future.

_I know this is jumping the gun,_ McCoy thought. _But with all this time to wait, how can we not talk about it? There's no telling if that alien machine will work again. It's crazy that it worked once. Maybe he shouldn't try it again. It could kill him. Kill them both. But I know that he won't consider leaving it be. It's always 'full steam ahead' with Jim._

"I could have your children," Jim said quietly, breaking the silence.

McCoy, in the middle of a swallow, almost choked. He coughed hard for a few minutes. It burned. "God, Jim! Don't throw stuff at me like that without warning."

Jim watched him, a slight smile on his face. "But I _could_. Lester should be healthy enough, unless we find out otherwise. And the kids would be half yours. I could live with that."

"Either way, us having kids is years and _years_ away, Jim." McCoy shook his head. "We both retire from space, and pick a place to settle down, so we can be full-time parents. Adoption is still fine with me. I've never been one to care about any particular genes in my future kids. I'll take whoever needs a papa. Just make sure it's legal because once mine, they're _mine_. I don't need my DNA in the mix for that."

"But if I _wanted_ to?" Jim asked curiously.

"We can talk about it then. I'm not adverse to the idea. But there is that inherited genetic defect on my side to consider. I know it's from the maternal side, but still... it makes me want to be a little cautious about passing something else I don't know about to another generation."

Jim scrunched up his face. "Yeah, there is that. Not that the idea won't always freak me out. A lot. But the possibility _is_ there."

"I know. Until then, think birth control," McCoy said with a sigh. "That's not something I thought I'd have to worry about again. And I worry about this machine. Honestly, I'd rather it fail completely then mess you two up even further. I'd almost rather you didn't try."

"Yeah, I know," Jim admitted. "But you know I have to."

"Yeah."

"I guess I'm just feeling confused and anxious. Why me? I know what Coleman said. I remember Lester yelling at me, about how she hated me. About my father being the cause of her father's death. About him being incompetent. About her deserving the ship more than I did. Was she even at the Academy? I thought I might have recognized her. Maybe she washed out."

"I didn't recognize her from anywhere," McCoy admitted. "Didn't recognize her name, either. If she was someone we knew, it was probably only briefly. Maybe you had one class together. Lots of people don't make it that first year."

"What could have made her hate me so? Hate my father?"

"Jim, there may not be any real answer for that. Some people just need to fixate on someone else to blame for their own shortcomings. Mental and emotional illness doesn't always make sense. We both know that." McCoy shrugged tiredly. "Even if she could tell us the whole story, odds are we still wouldn't understand. Your name got around campus, she picked you to blame. You had something she wanted, she created a reason to believe that taking it away from you was the right thing to do. Maybe they all played with more than one alien artifact, and it warped them. Could be a slow deterioration from an undetected radiation leak. Jim, we could speculate forever and never know. _She_ may never know. All we can do is hope that maybe she can be helped. Maybe neither of them can. It's not up to us now."

"I'm sorry she put you through hell. But I'm glad you pushed back, when you thought it was me treating you like shit," Jim said. "Don't ever let anyone treat you like that. Especially not me. You've earned your place on this ship, as well as your rank, your title. The respect we have for you. Don't let anyone try to convince you differently."

"Oh, I don't intend to. Come on, Jim." McCoy stood up. "We're both wrecked. We need to sleep."

Jim nodded. They prepared for the night. McCoy finding a pair of old sleeping clothes and Jim found a pair of old boxers and a t-shirt that he now swam in. Getting ready for bed almost felt normal. Getting into bed, not so much. But after a bit, when they'd both tossed and turned in the dark trying not to make contact, McCoy just turned and spooned with Jim, careful to keep his hands from roaming further north or south than Jim's waist. Jim let him. Even knowing it was Jim in his arms, it didn't really work. But it was better than being alone.

_It will work, someday, if I need it too. It's just the uncertainty of it all. But I can't lie to myself. I want him back the way he was. Jim is Jim in either body, but I'm awful fond of the original. He's totally hot. I want us to keep it._

There was something he found himself dying to ask. "Jim? What's it like to be female? Did you try messing around? Getting off?"

"Bones!" Jim laughed. "Hell, like I've had the time? Or the privacy? I'm sure the guards would have loved that. I had enough of a privacy problem trying to use the 'fresher out in the open," Jim snorted in amusement. "No, I haven't tried any of that. It's back to that 'not feeling right' thing. And I haven't slept or eaten much. I did throw up all my breakfast this morning."

"No, I get it. Just wondering."

"It _is_ strange, _if_ I think about it," Jim admitted. "When I'd get busy, distracted, or just not paying attention, it doesn't feel all that different."

"So, losing your cock and balls isn't a big deal?" McCoy asked a bit skeptically.

"Didn't say _that_ ," Jim admitted with a chuckle. "I don't feel like I _lost_ them. My brain says everything that's supposed to be there, is there, somewhere. When I walk it's different. I don't feel like I'm balanced right. And the breasts are weird. I'm just glad she didn't have really big ones. I'm not sure I like how they move around on their own when I'm on the move. It's distracting when they're loose and I'm running. I was glad when they found me something to wear besides that MedBay shift. I can see the attraction of a bra to keep them close and tucked in. Like wearing a cup when you need one. Maybe that's the best description I can give, that everything is there, just tucked up and held in tight."

Jim sighed. "It _is_ confusing. Sitting to pee was strange, but I've done that as a guy so I just tried not to think about it. I've just been keeping all the new stuff on a 'need to know' basis. And I don't _need_ to know it all. Yet."

"Doesn't sound like much fun."

"I think I can deal with it, if I have to. Mostly, I just feel like me. The physical stuff will just have to be new details I learn to work with."

"If we're both lucky, we won't have to. I liked your original equipment."

"You're hot for my bod," Jim teased.

"Yeah, and so are you." McCoy laughed. "Don't deny it."

"Can hardly do that, can I?"

It took them both a while, each quiet with their own thoughts before they fell asleep.

 

***

 

They'd needed the sleep, and got in eight hours. But that just threw them off and left them awake for dinner and another night to fill. McCoy talked to M'Benga and had found that Janice Lester was back under sedation. She'd been taken to solitary confinement after the sedative wore off. She was angry and violent, and they'd had to put a suicide watch on her. Once she'd realized no one believed she was Kirk, she threatened to harm his body. It had been decided to sedate her for the rest of the trip. Afterwards, if she was successfully returned to her original body, she'd have to be put on suicide watch until they could get her to Starbase 11 and into psychiatric care.

McCoy had gone back to work, cleaning up Jim's file, and trying to pretend that Commander Hartman wasn't buzzing around like an annoying mosquito. Jim knew he was still bothered by the fact that Hartman was there to evaluate him, and both had agreed that the Commander was there for a lot more than just a routine inventory and medical records check. They would both be glad when Commander Hartman got off at Starbase 11, no matter how this all turned out.

Doctor Coleman was quiet and withdrawn. He was being watched 24-seven now. He also would need the care of a good psychiatric team. No one knew if he would co-operate with helping them return Jim to his body or not. But he was not told that Jim's illness had been a lie, and no one was to inform him otherwise until they needed to.

Jim had gotten Scotty to unlock his cabin. He reset the passcode, and reinstated the permissions for the Medical Override. It was time to change the passcode anyway, he just had to remember to tell McCoy what the new one was. He'd inspected the rooms, pleased to see that Lester had not damaged anything. McCoy's bonsai was fine, as was his guitar and their other personal items. It was bad enough to think about Lester having free use of his body in these rooms, Jim was just thankful that she hadn't had time to erase his own existence from them.

_She would have, if she'd been able to kill me like she wanted. Everything that made these rooms mine, ours, would have been wiped clean as she started over. It makes me sick to think she used my body on the bridge, and in my rooms. I don't know if she and Coleman had sex that night, and maybe I'm better off not knowing. But I'm pissed off about all of it. She was willing to destroy me to get what she wanted. She hated me without even having a clue to who I am. Sometimes, this universe feels so fucked up._

He decided he needed to keep busy. What he couldn't change he needed to learn to deal with. What he could change, he would.

He got the Supply Sargent to issue him a black outfit that actually fit. He didn't want to wear his command colors until the switch back to his body was over and done with. He didn't want a picture of Lester dressed for Command in his memory. Spock was in command, and for the moment that was fine. Jim then visited MedBay, and found he didn't have enough to do there either. McCoy was trying to keep busy as well.

So, he spent the time in Engineering, with Scotty. Once over the shock of the court-martial, Scotty seemed to take Jim's new body in stride. He lovingly filled Jim in about the new warp sub-routine, and they discussed new tweaks and enhancements that could be made to push their speed up a fraction higher.

It just made Jim want to be back in Command all the more.

The only _really_ odd moment had been with Keenser. Jim had pulled the shoulder-length hair back in a tight pony-tail and had ditched the earrings. He'd never been fond of jewelry, even through his dye-it-or-pierce-it stage as a teenager. Jim felt that Keenser was staring at him in a really intense way as they wandered through Engineering. After Scotty sent Keenser on an errand Jim had mentioned to Scotty that his new look must be freaking the little guy out.

"Oh, no, Captain. We talked about this after the trial. He's not starin' because you're different. He's trying to figure out what's changed. As far as he's concerned, you look the same as you did before. Only more...out of uniform."

Which made Jim put "look up Keenser's species and their visual spectrum" on his to-do list. That might have come in handy if they'd known about it earlier.

Time passed slowly. He and McCoy ate. They tried to sleep, but both found they couldn't. By the time Camus II came back on the viewscreen on the bridge, they were both worn out. But Coleman had told them how to operate the machine. He didn't seem to care that they'd lied to him. He just wanted to be with Janice, and help to take care of her, wherever they were going to end up.

Jim didn't know if he hoped they'd end up together or not. An angry, violated part of him hoped that they didn't. They didn't deserve that comfort. But he never said it out loud.

When the time came, Jim stood on one side of the platform in his black outfit, and Janice Lester stood, also in black, but handcuffed, on the other. She refused to talk to anyone any more. Maybe she'd vented enough to have worn out her anger. Maybe she was planning something new. Jim didn't know. He was just glad they hadn't had to sedate her again. If the machine worked he wanted to end up back in his own body, awake and aware. Scotty, Spock, M'Benga, and McCoy were there. Hartman asked to attend, to be an official witness on the reports. Jim really thought the man just wanted to keep watch on McCoy, which was creepy, but he had no real reason to turn him down.

"Captain, are you prepared?" Spock asked, standing by the side of the machine, ready to work the controls.

"I am, Spock. Let's get this done."

Lester said nothing, only gritted her teeth and stared ahead, as if prepared for execution.

McCoy nodded when Jim looked at him. They'd know, soon, if their future would have to be adjusted a bit. Not changed, just tweaked a lot.

_I'm so fucking lucky,_ Jim thought as he gave McCoy a small smile. _How many people find that kind of love? That kind of certainty? However this goes, I'm blessed. If I ever forget that, I won't deserve him anymore._

When Spock flicked the switch, Jim felt that bolt of lightning all through his nerves. The world seemed to rip apart and go blank for a fraction of a second. The dizziness returned and his head felt stuffed full of cotton. But he could immediately feel things were back to normal. Before he could get his bearings he heard a loud screech and pain from being hit.

"You _can't!_ You can't take it _away_ from me! It's not _fair!_ " Lester was being pulled off him. McCoy was suddenly at his side, between him and Lester, and Spock was removing the cuffs from his wrist. M'Benga was beaming away with Lester, who'd once again been sedated.

"You okay, Jim?" McCoy asked as he waved his scanner over him.

Jim stretched and filled his lungs, looked at his hands and smiled. "I'm home!"

"About time," McCoy muttered.

"Welcome back, Captain," Spock said casually, as if he'd had no doubts at all. "I now relinquish command of the Enterprise to you."

"Thank you, Spock. Let's shut this machine down. I'm sure Starfleet will send a team out here soon enough to keep it safe. Let's get back to our own assignments."

And as they beamed up, he could see he wasn't the only one ready to leave. Even Hartman seemed a bit anxious to be on his way.

"Let's get you to MedBay," McCoy said, hand on Jim's arm as he led him into the ship's corridor. "I want a full workup. I want to make sure Lester didn't do anything nasty to your body that we didn't catch. And you know Starfleet Medical. They're going to insist on it anyway."

"I will be on the Bridge, Captain," Spock said. "Do you wish to change course back to Starbase 11?"

"Yes. Warp seven as long as Scotty will let you use it. Let the Starbase know we're back on our way and inform Starfleet as well. Let's not make them wait any longer for those vaccines."

Still a little dizzy, Jim was careful in how he walked down the halls of the Enterprise. The corridors were back to being a bit smaller because he was back to his normal height, and maybe the sounds a little clearer. The colors a little brighter.

_Or it could because I'm paying more attention now. Nothing like almost losing a thing to make if feel brand new._

He felt super conscious of his height, his build, the center of gravity in his chest, and the heaviness of his genitals as he walked.

_We_ **are** _different, men and women, no doubt about that. But the differences seem so huge, yet so small at the same time. She and I were both human, with eyes and ears, mouths, the same sense of smell. The same basic perception of our world. We're ninety-nine point nine to-whatever-decimal point the same, and yet we all get so hung up on our genders._

_I hope I don't use that small percent to judge women differently than I do men. Because, truth be told, I was afraid that maybe I'd have trouble getting my command back. Old prejudices die hard and I know they're still out there._

The medical exam was tedious, as always. Especially since this time McCoy was in no mood for teasing, or for providing the snarkiness he used during routine exams to help pass the time. He was Vulcan-serious about it. Jim would even swear he'd invented some new tests to run on him. M'Benga ran the same tests on Janice Lester, once she regained consciousness. She seemed withdrawn and defeated. A suicide watch was put on her just in case.

Jim spent the rest of the afternoon on the bridge. It was good to be back in Command Gold again and to sit in the chair. He still got an odd look or two, but he realized that they'd been taken in by a false Captain, and they were still having to adjust to the truth. He figured they were all wondering if they could have caught the impostor sooner. He didn't see how. If Lester had just taken it slower, she could have gotten a lot further than she did. But Jim still felt that in the end, she would have been caught out.

Finally, feeling settled but exhausted, Jim called it a day at the end of Alpha shift. It was with relief that he entered his new code to let him into their cabin.

"There you are," McCoy said, walking over from the kitchen to give Jim a hug. McCoy squeezed him hard and murmured in his ear. "I thought I'd have to go and pull you kicking and screaming from the bridge."

"Nah." Jim leaned back and gave McCoy a kiss. "I just needed to get settled, make sure the ship was okay."

"Yeah, I hear that," McCoy turned to sit on the couch. "Starbase 11 can't come soon enough. We get rid of Coleman, Lester and Hartman all at the same time. Then maybe we can get back to our normal routine of abnormality."

"Don't get comfortable," Jim warned. "We need to go back to your cabin--"

"And get this?" McCoy smiled as he dug in his pocket and pulled out Jim's ring. He held it up. "Want me to put it back on you?"

Jim grabbed McCoy's wrist and pulled him upright. He gave McCoy a wicked smile as he leaned in for another kiss. "Put that back on me, take some things off me..." he murmured against McCoy's lips. "I got guy parts now."

"Mmmm?" McCoy hummed against Jim's cheek. "As long as they're _your_ parts, I'm happy."

Laughing, Jim pulled McCoy with him to the bedroom. They each undressed quickly, Jim only flopping on the bed after letting McCoy put the ring back on his finger. McCoy joined him, and their mouths found each other once again. Only this time it wasn't playful. They fought for entrance into each other's mouths, their bodies pressed hard against each other from chest to hips, their legs winding around each other. The friction of skin on skin ignited him, and Jim could feel McCoy's cock growing hard against his, and he dug his fingers into the muscles of McCoy's ass.

Jim tried to force McCoy onto his back, but McCoy pushed back, and it became a struggle as to who would come out on top. McCoy may not like to fight in real life, but that didn't make him weak or a pushover in bed. He was broad shouldered, narrow waisted, and Jim adored the thick muscles of his ass and thighs. He loved it when he pushed, and McCoy pushed back.

Jim jolted when McCoy's mouth found the crook of his neck, and he bit. Hard enough to sting, but not to break skin. "God! Bones!"

At that second McCoy twisted them both, rolling on half on top of Jim, grabbing Jim's cock with one hand and grabbing a handful of Jim's hair with the other to hold him down. "Missed this, Kid," McCoy's voice, layers deep, rumbled through the skin over Jim's heart.

Giving up the tussle, Jim relaxed back, enjoying the jolts of electricity as McCoy nipped at bits of skin down his chest, to his nipples, while gently fisting Jim's cock. Jim felt like a supernova, as his body heated up under the intense pleasure.

" _Wicked_ hands, Old Man. Evil, _evil_ mouth," Jim panted happily.

Jim moaned as McCoy licked at his nipples, flicking one, then the other, as he trailed a wet tongue across Jim's chest. Time slowed as McCoy worked him like clay, with his sensitive fingers, his greedy mouth. Jim lost track of time, of himself, until the desperate need to orgasm made him realize how he wanted McCoy to come with him.

"Bones! Bones!" Jim realized he his own hand in McCoy's hair as he neared Jim's crotch and his engorged cock. "Together. I want to get off together."

"Show me."

Jim sat up and turned until he was at McCoy's crotch and McCoy was at his. He took McCoy's cock as far into his mouth as he could, feeling the reaction flash through the other man's body. Barely a second later, McCoy did the same as they worked each other in the sixty-nine position. It was a contest, like it always was when they did this. Not to get off first, but to force the other to fall over the edge before they, themselves, gave in. And it was hard, because McCoy's mouth was a furnace, teeth sharp and dangerous, the suction ferocious. And McCoy _knew_ , the way only a student of the human body could know, where all the nerves were, the pressure points, and even the way the blood flowed through Jim's body. It was hard not to let his attention wander with it, as he tried to give McCoy as good as he got.

Because the taste and scent of the man he loved kept Jim wanting more and more of him. In any way he could get him.

Jim lost the round, his body conspiring against him as he found himself coming into McCoy's mouth. But he fought to hold on to the world when it hit, and with a last flick of his tongue on the underside of McCoy's glans, McCoy lost his fight as well.

_That's as close to simultaneous as we've ever come_ , Jim thought happily. _Pun intended._

Jim scooted back up to the head of the bed, and lay half on top of McCoy, who was breathing heavily, eyes closed. There was just something he loved about climbing on and over McCoy. Weighing him down and keeping him in place. He pulled his pillow up so McCoy's arm and shoulder wouldn't fall asleep with Jim's head on them. He grabbed what he could of the cover to pull it up. Then he nestled down, his face in the crook of McCoy's neck. His satisfied and flaccid cock and balls pressed up against McCoy's warm, sex-scented body.

He loved it. It was where he belonged. And where he was safe.

They lay quietly for a while. Jim's mind wandering.

_Maybe it would have been different if it had been my own body. Say my DNA was switched up and I was suddenly female. In a body that was all mine. Would that have made a difference? I think it would make a huge one. I wouldn't have felt so much like a caretaker, a babysitter, for someone else._

"Bones?"

"Mmmm."

"If I'd been born female--"

"Yes. I'd still have been hot for you," McCoy said sleepily.

"Or if my own DNA suddenly--"

"Same answer."

"You wouldn't prefer--"

" _No_. I wouldn't. You're perfect like _this_. Now, either we wake up and get something to eat, or we nap and _then_ get something to eat. Your choice."

"But what if we were both female, at the same time?"

Jim smiled into McCoy's neck. He could feel McCoy's pulse speed up just a little bit under his lips. He hummed on the pulse point.

"Jim..."

"You'd be this hot woman, with short, dark hair, killer long lashes, hazel eyes, and those suckable lips! Bet you'd be busty, too. Long-waisted with an hour-glass figure. And I'd be this hot, blue-eyed blond, with spiky hair and perky breasts, with long legs to wrap around you. I'd drive you crazy with desire."

"Jim?" McCoy asked with exasperation. "Really? Already?"

"And we'd be all _over_ each other! I mean, hands and mouths everywhere. Breasts mashing together. We could--"

"Damn it, Jim," he sighed. Jim's hand was grabbed and placed on McCoy's firming cock. "Fine. No naps. No dinner. But I warn you right now that if we turn into sex-crazed Hortas in this bed-time story of yours, I'm out and down the corridor to get my dinner. You can jerk off alone."

Jim laughed and firmly squeezed McCoy's cock, loving the feel of it growing heavy again so soon after the first round. "Warning taken. But seriously, Doctor, you need to be prepared for the weird stuff in life."

"I'm _living_ the weird stuff," McCoy groused. "Now, _back_ to the story."

 

***

 

Admiral Bellamy read over the report Commander Hartman had filed in the case of Doctor Leonard McCoy.

_Well, his medical files are all in order. MedBay clean, and organized by standard Starfleet Medical procedure. The other Doctors have no complaints, and his nurses seem respectful enough. And as to butting heads with the Captain, it seems his relationship with the man isn't interfering with that. At least, not in obvious ways. They seemed to have handled that bit of body switching as well as could be expected. McCoy pushed when he needed to. Now, if we can just get that machine to study before it disappears into Section 31... But there's got to be something here that will let me pull McCoy off that ship before he gets cemented in._

His door chimed. Thomas stepped in and let the door slide shut behind him. He looked unusually flustered.

"Sir, The Starfleet Surgeon General is here!"

"He's _here_?" Bellamy asked in surprise. The Surgeon General, the ultimate command position in Starfleet Medical, was a very important, and very, very busy man. Bellamy had only met him on a few occasions. Branch Admiral Philip Boyce's history was well known to everyone in the Command Staff at Starfleet Medical. _Everything_ went by his desk, all training, all recruiting, and all future courses of action by Starfleet in all its medical branches were overseen by the man.

He did not make surprise visits to those under his command. He called _you_ to _him_.

"Send him in!" Bellamy stood as The Starfleet Surgeon General, Branch Admiral Boyce walked in.

"Stand down," Boyce ordered calmly, glancing at Thomas. "You can tell your aide that this is an off-the-record, private conversation."

"You may leave," Bellamy ordered. Thomas, looking completely taken aback, nodded and left.

"Please sit, Sir," Bellamy offered Boyce a seat.

Branch Admiral Boyce sat. In full uniform, he was a small man, age clearly having had its way with his frame. His gray hair was thinning, his face creased, but his eyes a clear and cold blue. Human, with decades of medical service as a Doctor and a skilled researcher behind him, most people only really remembered that he had once been CMO of the Enterprise. He'd served with the late Captain Pike. Another brilliant officer. Bellamy was sure that Boyce's official record, sealed off from even Bellamy's clearance, must be pages and pages longer than his public one. So much of what the Enterprise crew saw and did during Boyce's term as CMO was restricted, even now.

"Admiral Bellamy," Boyce said calmly, "let's cut through the bull crap and get to the point. I'm here to tell you to leave him alone."

"Who? Sir?" Bellamy asked in surprise.

"Doctor McCoy." Boyce's eyes grew hard. "You're not the only one who takes an interest in the up-and-coming youngsters, Admiral."

Bellamy's eyes flickered to the door, in spite of himself.

"Oh, don't blame the aide," Boyce huffed. "He's loyal. But I have flags myself, Admiral. I even have flags on other people's flags. And I'm privy to any report that comes into these offices. It comes with the job."

"I am not doing anything--"

"Wrong? Didn't say you were," Boyce said casually. "You wouldn't have your position if you couldn't keep track of all the important things. And the young ones _are_ important."

"May I speak candidly, Sir?"

"Oh, hell _yes_. Speak your mind."

"I take it you've seen his file? Read his record? You know what kind of mind we'd be losing if that ship should disappear, or he be lost on a mission."

"Yes, I do. Absolutely."

"Then I feel we must do something about it. We _need_ the brilliant ones."

"Yes, we do. But think of it this way. Do you want to get him, only to have him disappear on us? You know what happens to the really brilliant, really _unhappy_ ones?"

Bellamy froze. _Section 31. The name we're not supposed to say. Or know about. The place where some of my best and brightest disappear to._

The thought chilled him, as it always did. Everyone pretended the section didn't exist. Pretended that most of Starfleet wasn't out of _that_ loop. But pretending didn't make it true.

"I have my suspicions," Bellamy said carefully.

Boyce nodded. "There's no place really safe, Admiral. You try to tear McCoy away from where he wants to be, take away his sense of choice, and you'll be sending him to 'the dark side', if you'll forgive me that ancient phrase. And let me fill you in on a little secret, Admiral. I still travel. Not often. But when I do, it's under an assumed name. People may remember Pike, but hardly anyone, even in Starfleet, knows _me_ by sight. I'm careful to keep it that way. I've actually met McCoy twice. Once even worked with him when he was in the Academy. I slipped into Starfleet Medical as his anesthesiologist on a case he was working in ER one night."

Bellamy must have looked shocked, because Boyce smiled. "I'm still qualified, if you want to check. Wanted to see the kid at work. I'd heard he was in rough shape when he was recruited. Wanted to see him under pressure. Nasty case of torso trauma in an accident. Falling container at 3 am. on the loading platform. McCoy was quick, efficient, and had some brilliant moves that spoke of instinct a lot of the kids don't have anymore. Instinct they'd kill for. Then, a few years later, I hitched a ride with some ambassador friends of mine. Wanted to see the new incarnation of the Enterprise. Went into McCoy's MedBay and became a whiny pest for the whole trip. He was good. Firm, but polite. Very gentle with a crazy old man. Couldn't make him snap. Actually saw Jim Kirk when he came in to check with McCoy over something."

Boyce shook his head a bit sadly at the memory.

"Kirk is a bright kid," he continued. "I should have insisted Pike introduce us when I had the chance. Pike was always bragging about the kid, while scared to death he wouldn't make it through the Academy. I'll regret missing out on that opportunity for the rest of my life."

Then Boyce smiled again. "When I saw Kirk and McCoy together, it was after the rumor that McCoy and the Captain were an 'item'. Good looking couple. But what I was really looking for was there, in both of them. McCoy's one of the best CMO's I've seen in a long time. No one, and I mean _no one_ , is going to mess with his MedBay, or his patients, without a hell of a fight. No matter who he's sleeping with, or who he loves. Not to say it'll last between them. Who the hell knows? But even if it doesn't, McCoy will do his job in taking care of the crew and providing support for his Captain. Even if that later turns out not to be Kirk."

Boyce then nodded at the PADD in front of Bellamy. "I think that's pretty clear."

"All the more reason not to want to lose him," Bellamy said doggedly.

"Think of it this way," Boyce said as he stood. "We would have probably lost him during the Nero incident if he hadn't snuck Kirk onto the Enterprise."

Bellamy was shocked. He hadn't known that.

"Oh, yes, there's things that were never officially entered into the record," Boyce said with a smile. "My decision and Pike's. Kirk saved the Earth, and most of his ship, because McCoy snuck him on there. McCoy'd probably be dead, along with the rest of that ship, if he hadn't. Then there was the Xenopolycythemia. We _all_ missed that. He _should_ be dead in a few years from that, but he won't be. And the Marcus incident. We were damn lucky we could keep Section 31 from taking him in after he cured Kirk. I suspect they were already close enough to such a serum, if they didn't have it already, that they didn't need to pick his brain for it."

Bellamy winced as Boyce said the section's name out loud.

"If the universe wants him dead, he'll die, just like anyone else," Boyce continued with a careless shrug. "If not, maybe Kirk'll help him stay sane. Maybe he'll cure the common cold in his old age. Take my place someday. I think the least we can do is to let him manage his private life on his own, and make his own choices about his future."

Boyce headed toward the door, then turned back to Bellamy.

"I'm not saying you have to stop trying to recruit him for your research teams. Or not try to keep him in line with surprise inspections. Or to cut him any slack if he loses it and can't handle the job. Don't treat him any differently than any other CMO. What I am saying is... leave him the fuck _alone_ , otherwise. Don't threaten, force, scare, browbeat, bully, arm-twist, or maneuver him into doing something against his will. If it all goes to hell, if he dies _tomorrow_ , then it's because he's _chosen_ to be where he is, doing what he's doing. His choice, his fate." Boyce smiled and said calmly. "And that, Sir, is an _order_. You'll find it in your files when you open them."

Boyce then nodded and left.

As the door slid closed between him and Boyce, Bellamy found he felt a little shell-shocked.

_How can he be so cavalier about this? How can he not see disaster coming? How can he not be worried about who, and what, we'd have in our arsenal to fight it?_

But it was clear to Bellamy he was going to have to reconsider applying any kind of pressure on McCoy to leave the ship. Which was fine. He wasn't ready to push too hard. Yet. Not without something useful to push with. He could still keep a careful watch.

After all, Boyce wasn't going to live forever. And Bellamy had always planned to get The Surgeon General's job, anyway.

When it was time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this, and I hope that such extensive use of dialog from the original episode didn't bore anyone. Usually, the characters seem to want to go in totally different directions when I use an old episode for a base. This time, they seemed to stick closer to it than usual. {shrugs} They get stubborn about what they want, sometimes.


End file.
